The Toughest Case
by fermataoso
Summary: Fiyero studied the floor as Elphaba shifted awkwardly. "But with a tutor, it's…possible to pass?"
1. My Mind Holds the Key

AN: I know I shouldn't start another story I haven't finished, but I missed Fiyero. Thank you for reading.

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><p>"Your grades in my class are simply deplorable. You've no hope at all to pass without a tutor." Master Bidsk pressed his fingers to his forehead. "In fact, it's downright amazing how utterly terrible you are. In all my thirty-six years of teaching, I have never seen anyone so hopeless."<p>

Fiyero studied the floor as Elphaba shifted awkwardly. "But with a tutor, it's…possible to pass?"

"And a miracle? Yes. The margin is slim, but present. And I will consider extra credit should the effort demonstrated improve."

"Of course." She tucked her hair behind her ears in a perfunctory gesture. "Might I have a syllabus and corresponding study notes."

"See, this is exactly your problem, Miss Thropp." The thickset teacher leaned back against the wall. "This class is not a bookwork class to be dissected and studied like academia. Physical education is physical. Master Tiggular is our best athlete. He should be able to coach you through these basics if you'll stop trying to over-think everything."

"Yes, sir." Fiyero answered for her, seeing the flush creep up her neck. He grabbed her hand before she could argue and offered a sincere promise, "I'll do my best."

"I'll speak to the headmistress about your own grades, Tiggular. Oz knows, you could use the extra credit in your other classes. But she'll be taking up a portion of your time." He ran his eyes over Elphaba and shook his head. "A large portion. Very, very large."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

They stood, and Master Bidsk walked them to the door. He set a hand on Fiyero's shoulder. "Good luck, son. You'll need it."

They headed toward the cafeteria in awkward silence. "Sorry," Fiyero offered. "I've been on the other end of those conversations more times than I can count. It's never pleasant."

"Yes, well," Elphaba pushed her shoulders back, "it's not as if I'm failing a real class. Honestly, I don't even understand why I have to take it."

"I felt the same way about economics." She shot him a look, but he set a companionable hand on her shoulder. "If it helps, we don't have to tell anyone. You can tell them you're tutoring me. It's certainly believable enough."

His offer melted her anger enough that she shook her head. "Though I will tutor you as well, if you'd like. He's right. I'll be taking up much of your study time, and I'd hate to be the reason your grades suffer."

"Thanks, Elphie." He doubted he'd need it after Bidsk's intersession, but it would ease the sting of her own need and return some of her self-respect. "When should we start?"

She sighed. "Soon. He wasn't exaggerating. I'm really terrible."

Fiyero knocked his shoulder into her. "Not after I'm done with you. You'll be top of your class."

She lifted an eyebrow. "So confident?"

"In you? Absolutely."


	2. My Body is a Cage

Fiyero cringed as Elphaba yet again managed to lose control of the ball. Master Bidsk had not been exaggerating. She was terrible.

"Okay, bring it back."

A clumsy dribble and a half dozen fumbles later, she returned in front of him, sweating and cursing her miserable lot in life. "This is ridiculous. At what point in life will I ever need to know how to run and bounce a rubber sphere?" She hurled the ball at the hoop, unsurprised when it fell well below.

He jogged back with the ball.

"Great. Even you can't think of anything reassuring to say. Mr. Sunshine himself."

That drew a laugh from him before he could stop it. "I can." He fought his broad smile into a poor attempt at a grimace, more like he'd eaten a sour lemon. "And I'm not Mr. Sunshine. I'm far too manly and dangerous for that."

"Yeah, right." She blew a loose strand out of her face. "Ugh, I quit."

He held out the ball. "No, you don't."

She eyed it as if it might secretly be a python. "I'm awful," she protested, but she took the ball.

"So you'll get better."

She aimed, poised, and hurled the ball toward the hoop with all her might. The ball smacked into the ground and rolled in the opposite direction. The look she sent him was somehow both smug and dejected.

"Let's start with your stance." Her face couldn't hold an ounce more misery, but she complied with his directions, bending her knees and miming shot after shot until he returned with the ball. "Try again."

She rehearsed the motion one last time and pressed his lips tight together. She stared at the basket in utter concentration. She bent her knees, supported the ball and shot.

The ball arced high. The basket loomed.

But the ball hit off the hoop and sprung off toward the grass again. She slumped over and groaned. "At least you hit the hoop this time. Much closer."

Her narrowed eyes threatened to murder him.

"Try again."

She shot again, and the ball fell short.

"Again." Off the backboard this time. "Again." She shoved it with a frustrated grunt, and the ball bounced off the rim to shoot back at them. He dove at it before it slammed into her face.

"It's a stupid little ball and a stupid little hoop, and there's no reason it should be this difficult! I snapped my wrist. I bent my knees. I angled my elbow. It doesn't work!"

She glared at him, waiting for a response. He gave her a long second to make sure she'd finished her tirade. Then he held out the ball.

For a second, he honestly thought she might punch him, but she snatched the ball out of his hands. It missed again, and the ball rolled halfheartedly away in the grass beyond the blacktop. "I'm wasting your time."

"You're giving up too soon." She scoffed, but he caught her hand. "Look, I know what it's like to feel bad at something. To try, and fail. It sucks. And it seems like it comes so easy to everyone else, but you have to work ten times harder at it."

"Yes, you and hard work are virtually synonymous." But she'd softened. She knew what he'd gone through in the last months. Even still he had to struggle to pass.

"Lucky for you, I've learned from a very stubborn, headstrong girl that doesn't take no for an answer. So shut up, grab the damn ball and shoot it."

She stared at him for a moment, and then snatched at the ball. She lined up another shot.

It rustled the net under the basket, so close his heart ached for her. She took the next ball without complaint, and he could see the gears working. She'd overcorrect again, he knew it. He caught her arm before she shot and flashed her a smile.

"Relax, it's just a game."

"It's not." Her nose twitched in a disgruntled expression. "It's a personal nemesis."

The ball hit too far to the left this time. A few more misses, and he could tell she was close to her limit. "That's enough for today. We'll focus on your dribbling tomorrow."

"But I still can't do it." She picked up the ball again, and he had to yank hard to pull it out of her hands.

"You didn't expect to turn into a basketball star in one session, did you?"

"But we've been at it for over an hour."

"I know," he commiserated with a teasing grin. "In this time you could've read six books, done a couple extra credit physics assignments and solved world hunger, but such is life."

She slumped. "You don't think I can do it."

"Tonight." He cupped her cheek. "I don't think you can do it tonight. But who knows, maybe tomorrow it will click."

"Maybe," she offered grudgingly. But she didn't buy it for one minute. She was a tough sell for positivity, even with his considerable talents.

He bumped her shoulder as he led her toward the dorms. "And you're much better than you were before." She peeked up at him with a skeptical expression. "Now you're pretty close to the basket each time."

"Still not good enough." But it was determination instead of self-defeat lacing her frown.

He chuckled. "You are really impatient, aren't you? I should have known."

"I don't like to waste time."

He considered her a moment, hair plastered to her neck and an oversized sweatshirt swallowing any hint of a figure, and he grinned at how human she seemed. She was usually so intimidating, a superpower of a girl, and seeing her this way, he couldn't help a sudden wave of affection. "Not everything has to be so important. It's okay to relax sometimes."

She rolled her eyes. "You would say that."

"Hey, no criticizing the teacher," he teased, and she bit her lip.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Thank you for helping me."

He made a face. "I was kidding."

"I know. But I mean it. Thanks."

He acknowledged it with a half-shrug. "Want to go over the literature notes with me? I could use the translation."

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing." He feigned an innocent look, but her gaze was shrewd. He had extra credit to spare, and she knew it. So it caught him off guard when she trained her eyes back on the door. "Fine."

"Great. Thanks."

She unlocked her room, and he followed her inside. She set the ball by the bookcase and picked up her notes as he lounged in her chair. With a straight face so utterly Elphaba, she brushed her hand against his in an awkward gesture of sentiment. "You're a good friend, Fiyero."

He blinked at her in surprise and swallowed a smile. "Only when it's called for."


	3. How Fickle My Heart

Fiyero dashed up the familiar stairs and around the corner. He was late, though not obscenely, but he knew how Elphaba valued punctuality. Ball propped at his hip, he knocked at the door. "Ready, Elphie?"

Galinda swung the door open, and he did his best not to seem awkward as he sent her a hesitant nod. "She's not here. She left a couple hours ago."

"Oh." His forehead bunched. "She left?"

"I think she went to practice. You're tutoring her, right?" He caught the look of incredulity, but he really couldn't blame her. "Well, you know how she is. She'll work herself to death until she gets it right." They shared a look, until Galinda stepped back.

He palmed the back of his neck. "Thanks. I'd better-" She started to shut the door, but he caught her arm. "I'm sorry, you know. For the record."

She blinked her eyes at the ceiling but gave a terse nod.

"If you need to talk…" he trailed off, certain she wouldn't want to talk to him about their break up, but he felt he should offer. He wished he could have the feelings for her he should, but they just weren't there.

Galinda forced a small smile. "I'm fine, Fiyero. Go on. She's waiting."

"You know we're not…that nothing's…"

Her lips pressed together in a familiar sign of exasperation. "Stop. I should get to be mad at you if I want, and I can't with you constantly apologizing and trying to make me feel better. We broke up. I'm not your responsibility anymore."

"But I still care about you. You know I do."

"Then give me some space."

He took a step back in acknowledgement. "Oh, hang on." Galinda slipped inside the room and reappeared with a bottle. "She forgot her water."

She passed it to him, careful not to let their fingers brush together. "Thanks." Her smile was friendly, if more somber than he could ever have imagined on the bubbly blonde. She shut the door, and he jogged his way down to the court.

"Great shot." A lanky boy that Fiyero vaguely recognized passed Elphaba the ball. "Really close that time." Her eyes glued to the rim, she sent the ball mere inches from the hoop. The boy chased down the ball and sent it back to her, quick with another encouragement.

"Sorry I'm late." Fiyero walked toward her, his eyes flitting between the two. He flashed a hesitant smile. "Have I been replaced?"

She turned to him in surprise. "Oh, no. Just practicing."

The other boy jogged up and held out a hand in greeting. "Liam."

"Fiyero." He tamped down his annoyance in a tense attempt to be friendly. Why he was bothered by Liam, he couldn't say, but that didn't mean he would give in to it.

"Did you see the last one? How were my elbows?" She had turned back to the basket, but the anxiety shone clear despite her focus. Before Liam could answer, she fidgeted in the miniscule silence and asked, "Fiyero?"

He fought a smug grin. "You're over thinking." Her expression was priceless, but he softened her with a light bump against her shoulder. "Aim. Shoot. Keep trying. You'll figure it out."

"There's got to be a more efficient way."

Her wrinkled nose could not possibly be more endearing. "Your form's improved. It's just fine-tuning now."

"If I might suggest…" Fiyero's jaw tightened when the other boy set his hands on her arms. "The angle of the arc can be better controlled if you-"

She stepped away from him. "Did I say you could touch me?"

His eyes widened almost comically, and he scuttled back. "I apologize if I overstepped. I assure you I meant no offense."

Fiyero propped the ball against his hip, the picture of nonchalance despite his strong desire to grin. "Aim and shoot. It's gotta be simple if I can do it, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fishing for a compliment?"

"Yes, I'm the very picture of insecurity." She snorted a laugh. "Stop stressing about it. You'll get it. Maybe not today, but sooner or later."

"Later," she groused, but the tension slid from her shoulders. She shot, and the ball arced high. It bounced against the backboard…and swooshed through the net. She stared at it for a second in shock, oblivious to Liam's enthused praise. "I made it?"

Fiyero chuckled at her expression.

"Holy Kumbricia, I made it!" She beamed and rushed off to catch the ball. Liam's arms hung out as if he'd expected a hug, but he quickly converted it into a less than plausible stretch.

Joy radiated off her as she raced back and aimed another shot. The ball bounced off the rim, and just like that, the sun went behind a cloud in her face. Her shoulders crumpled. "Not bad. Still close."

"I could get close before."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you thought once you made a basket, you'd never miss again?"

"No," but her expression said otherwise. He held the ball for a second to let that sink in. "Fine, you're right. At least I'm still close."

When the next shot fell short, he nudged her arm. "Focus on how it felt to make that first basket." A reflexive smile crept across her face. "Now try again."

The ball swooshed through the hoop, and she grabbed his arm. "I did it again."

He let her celebrate a moment, but when she turned back to the basket, he slipped the ball from her hands. "I think that's enough of that for today. Since you're scheduling your own practices, and all." She shot him a look. "Let's work on passing since your friend's here to help."

He ran her through several drills, but it seemed passing came naturally to her. Much to their combined relief. Her dribbling had also improved. Liam jogged up with congratulations, and Fiyero felt a strong urge to send her running away again. "I've got to get to class, but it was wonderful meeting you."

"You, too," he offered genially until he realized the boy meant Elphaba.

Liam leaned in, and her shoulders tensed. Fiyero took an unconscious step toward them. "I'd like to get to know you better. Could I take you to dinner sometime?"

Flustered, she tugged uneasily on her braid. "Um, I don't know."

"Or might I have your phone number to call you?"

She shot a look to Fiyero, and he held back his own feelings for the boy to say, "We'll be here the same time tomorrow, if you'd like to come play again." At least then she'd have a chaperone.

She looked at him in surprise as Liam nodded. "Tomorrow it is. Until then, Miss Elphaba." With a final lovesick smile, the boy headed off the court.

"Why'd you invite him back?"

Fiyero turned to her. "You didn't want me to?"

"I just…never mind."

He caught her elbow. "No, what?" He sent her a cajoling smile. "Tell me."

"It's easier just the two of us. But if you'd rather not-"

He shook her arm enough to draw her eyes back to his. "Of course I'd rather. You're easy to teach, and I love helping you, okay?" Her eyes flicked to his, then back to the ground. "I thought that would be easier, is all. You didn't seem comfortable alone with him."

She shifted uneasily, and he picked up the hint.

"Well, you can dribble, pass and shoot. I think you're ready to learn defense." He took the ball. "You'll like this. All you have to do is stop me from making the basket." He went over the fouls, and then sent her over by the basket to stop him.

He ran in for a simple lay up, and she blocked him. He spun around her, and she followed. Convinced she could guard well enough, he aimed a shot, and she caught the rebound.

"Great. Now you're on offense. Dribble down and try to score." He jogged ahead of her and let her down most of the court without guarding. When she started to shoot, he blocked the shot. She sent him an irritated look. "Your opponent's not just going to let you shoot. You've got to work faster."

"But I can barely make a basket as it is."

"Excuses already?"

"No. Ugh, fine." He stayed in front of her as she dribbled around him for an opening. She tried to rush him, but he didn't let her pass. The shot she aimed was hurried, but its form had potential. He caught the rebound and jogged down the court to shoot a layup.

She ran after him, too late to prevent it. "You suck," she accused, and he grinned. "Oz, this is a lot of work."

"Now you know how I feel about History."

"But there's no sprinting in History."

"Just to it." He swiped at the ball as she dribbled, but she evaded nicely. "Good save."

"Jerk."

He swallowed a laugh. "It's a game. Would you really want me to go easy on you?"

She gave him a reluctant smile. "No, you're right." Of course, he'd never admit he was still only half-playing. The flashes of triumph that sunned across her face when she managed a good defense or got a clean shot off made him desperately want to throw the game for her.

Her competitive streak came out as they played, and he quickly realized he should have started her out like this. With careful teasing, he could distract her much more effectively as he worked her around the court.

Not to mention he absolutely loved when she got sassy. She propped a hand on a hip and thrust out her bottom lip. "No fair. What's that – foul? Reaching?"

He dribbled with a cheeky grin. "No, this is reaching…" He pinched her side and dodged out of the way before she could retaliate.

"Cad!" She grabbed his arm and threw herself against him in a futile attempt to get the ball. He laughed as he dribbled with his far hand and held her at bay with the other.

"That's a foul though. Holding."

"If you can foul, I can." She jerked free and snatched again for the ball.

"Having fun?"

"Tons," she growled with another lunge.

"Me, too," he agreed amicably, grinning at the saucy tilt to her lips. He taunted her a bit longer, then jogged down the court to aim a smooth shot straight through the basket.

She surprised him when she returned a lay up of her own. "Nice," he offered sincerely, and she passed him with ball with a barely suppressed smirk.

"You needn't sound so surprised."

He grinned and went back to dribbling. "No holding this time? I was starting to enjoy it."

"I bet you were."

He dribbled closer. "Not as much as Liam, I'd bet," he teased, glad when an exasperated expression peaked through her grin. "Should I arrange some private lessons for you? I'm sure he could work on your holding."

She absorbed his innuendo with a blank expression. "Are you saying you couldn't? Here I thought you were the consummate physical educator." She moved closer, and he grinned at her swagger. "Of course, if you're saying you're not up to the challenge, I suppose I'll have to pick up the slack myself." A total inappropriate image flashed in his mind of exactly how she might, and he lost his rhythm.

She swiped out a hand and stole the ball before he could pick up his jaw. Only his quick reflexes got him down the court before she scored. "Thief."

"Learned from the best," she boasted as she dribbled left and right, looking for an opening.

"Damn right."

"Cocky much?"

"You know you love it."

She aimed a shot, and he crowded her back. Her eyes stayed on the basket, but a tension wove through her. They froze for a moment: she poised to shoot, and his arms still fenced her back. He realized with a start how close they'd ended up, and how dark her cheeks were. A ripple of awareness ran through him, and his eyes drifted undirected to her lips. Is that why she seemed so stiff? Had she suddenly felt that same unexpected pull?

No, he pushed himself an edge back. She had a would-be admirer, and he'd just gotten out of a relationship, with her roommate no less. They were friends, nothing more.

He led them off the court, calling time, and she took a long drink from her water bottle. The heat of the sun beat down on them, and she plucked at her thick sweatshirt where it stuck to her. If he wondered what she looked like underneath, he chalked it up to a natural male appreciation for the female form. And of course the curiosity that naturally develops when said form is hidden, despite the overwhelming platonic feelings of both persons involved.

And the fact that one of said persons was a surprisingly effective tease and the other an undeniably hormone-driven young man had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.


	4. My Leg Turns To Pins

AN: I know, I suck. Super busy with graduate school, but I am sorry it took so long to update. One way or another, I promise I will finish this story (and Resistance).

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><p>Fiyero yanked his jersey over his head as he sprinted in the doors to the gym. Late for the third night in a row. Not that he meant to be, but training with Elphaba took longer every day. He could never seem to keep track of time.<p>

Master Bidsk waved him over, and Fiyero steeled himself for a lecture on punctuality.

"Not sure how you did it, son, but you're a miracle worker." The thickset coach tossed out. "I thought that girl was beyond all hope, and damned if she isn't almost passable now."

"Thank you, sir. She's very hard-working."

"Too much so. Stubborn as a mule, that one." He paused to yell some 'encouraging' insults at a few of Fiyero's teammates. "Can't imagine how you managed it, but if she can nail her final, I'll spot her the extra points to pass."

"Excuse me, Coach?" The man turned back to him, surprised he was still there. "I don't suppose there's any way she can still work up to an A? I know she's behind, but you mentioned extra credit before, and I know she'd really work hard for it."

He wrinkled his nose. "Few weeks ago, I'd have sworn she'd never have a prayer of passing. Isn't that enough?"

"No, I mean, that's great. But she's worked so hard, and I know how much her grades mean to her."

Bidsk frowned. "Well, she's got a 12. That's a long way to go. Honestly, son, she should be happy to pass at all."

"But if she retests, she'll get an A?"

He thought for a moment. "She'll have to earn it. Retest the sports she's failed and make up those points. Not to mention ace her final, but she can try if it's so all-fired important to her. Now get your ass out there before Tenmeadows loses the ball again."

"Great! Thanks!" Fiyero dashed off to join practice before the coach changed his mind.

Fiyero jogged up to the Crage dormitories, surprised to see Elphaba already downstairs and stretching. "You're down early."

"I finished my lessons yesterday. It's always lighter after a round of exams."

He made a face. "For you maybe." He would be swimming in corrections and tutorials if not for the blissful amount of extra credit he earned for a simple task he'd volunteer for anyway.

They set out for their two-mile jog at a slower pace than he preferred, but still faster than she'd managed the past couple weeks. He lost his thoughts to the rhythmic

slap of their feet on the concrete and the huff of her breath in the cool morning air. To her credit, she didn't back off. She'd insult, argue and scowl, but she'd push herself through whatever he set before her. How could his coach have such problems?

Speaking of, he cleared his throat. "So I talked to Bidsk." She grimaced. "You're close, and if you can get most of the way there, he'll pass you."

She flashed a small smile and glanced at him. "Thanks, Fiyero," she puffed. "I'd never have been able to do this without you."

"Yeah," he waved her off, "but that's not it. He said, if you want, you can still work toward an A."

She stopped jogging, and he turned back toward her. "Huh?"

"I talked him into letting you retest the practicals you failed, and if you do well enough on the final, it's still possible."

"What? How-"

"But you'd have to earn it all. No extra points." He forced himself to hold still as he watched the indecision flicker on her face. She clearly wanted to try for the higher grade, but her reluctance spoke of the disbelief in her chances. "I think you should go for it. I promise, even if I have to skip classes, I'll be there with you every step of the way."

"A generous offer, even if you would leap at the chance to skip class." She sucked on her teeth lightly. "What's the final?"

"You have to run a 4-minute mile, pass some muscle strength, endurance and flexibility tests and pass a body composition index. At least the last one is a easy pass for you."

"But I'd have to retest all the practicals I failed?" He nodded. "I don't know, Fiyero. I mean, I want to, but…"

"Try." He knocked her shoulder. "Please?"

"You know, if you worked this hard on your own grades-"

"I will if you want. But my grades don't matter to me, and I know you don't want a C." She winced. "Come on. You've got an awesome tutor now. That's got to help."

"Fine. But don't blame me if I'm hopeless."

"And slacking off." He grabbed her hand and tugged her after him. "Back to work."

She grumbled, but spurred her weary legs back into action. By the time they made it around the campus, even Fiyero had started to sweat. His teases were as breathless as Elphaba's retorts when they finally turned the corner to the university outdoor courts.

She muttered a curse and dodged back behind a tree. "Why is he always here?"

Fiyero ducked back beside her. "He's infatuated." She sneered, and he held back a laugh. "Can he help it if you're so interesting?"

"He can help not stalking me."

"How else is he supposed to pretend to run into you?"

"He isn't." She sent her eyes heavenward. "Why can't he leave well enough alone?"

"Oh, admit it." Fiyero leaned close and bumped her chin. "Deep down, you love the attention."

Her eyes promised murder. "I do not," she snarled. "I'm not a vain little-"

He cut her off before she could work herself into a tirade, no doubt full of insults to his good name. "Fine, then we can always move to my room."

"If that was a pick-up, it was terrible." He flashed her an exaggeratedly lecherous grin, and she shoved his arm. "Your room it is. Though I don't know what we'll do."

He waggled his eyebrows until she rolled her eyes and started toward Briscoe Hall. "Sure you don't want to invite Liam?"

"Now you're just trying to piss me off."

He tamped down a grin as he held open the gate. "Little bit."

She trailed after him through the boys' dormitory and up the narrow stairs to the suite. He unlocked the door and led her in, sweeping the debris of neglected assignments and dirty laundry out of the center of his floor. She propped herself against the doorframe. "So what's the plan?"

"You won't like it."

And she didn't, though he rather enjoyed the view she made rear-up on his floor. She struggled through a couple half-successful push-ups before he stopped her.

"Okay, straighten your neck. And try to keep your shoulders still." He dropped to the floor beside her to demonstrate.

She pushed the fine hairs off her forehead. "Easy for you. You have all those muscles to do it."

He forced back a cheeky grin but couldn't suppress an arrogant, "Yes, I do. And how do you suppose I got them?"

She shoved herself off the floor and grunted, "Genetics."

He rolled onto his side. "I suppose I do have some advantages in that area. But you're not without your own gifts there, you know."

"Brains," she panted, "do not help," her arms shook, "with pushups."

"Not your only talent, but fine. A challenge, then. Ten push-ups; that's all. For ten measly push-ups I will do whatever you want."

She dropped back to the ground. "Including shut up?" He mimed a key for his lips, and she sighed, "Do I have to start over?"

"Nope. Seven more to go, and you'll have a blessed minute of silence from yours truly." She jerked herself through them with perhaps the worst form he'd ever seen, and then collapsed in a heap.

He grinned and mouthed, "Good job."

She eyed him for a long moment, a hand propped on her hip. Then with a wicked grin, she said, "So Galinda wants me to cut my hair."

His jaw dropped, and he barely caught himself from launching into a tirade on how she should absolutely not cut her beautiful hair. Oh, so that's how she wanted to play it. He leaned back and forced a nonchalant shrug.

"So you agree?" Humor lined her face as she taunted him. "Maybe I should do it now, before Galinda gets her hands on me and turns it into a layered atrocity."

She reached for his scissors, but he tackled her to shake a finger in her face. She laughed. "Alright, you can talk. It's too odd with you quiet."

He grinned, "Terrorist. Holding my favorite hair hostage."

"You're so strange."

"True. But your minute's up. Ten more please."

She let out a hassled sigh, "Ugh, can't we go hit baseballs again? I felt like I was getting the hang of it."

He brushed a bruise on her elbow and lifted an eyebrow. "If you want, but I thought you were avoiding Liam?"

She rolled onto her stomach rather than answer and lifted herself in a more stable push-up. He corrected her form and sent her through another set. Then another. At forty, her arms started to shake, so he broke the last set into two reps of five. "Almost done," he encouraged as she propelled herself up with a weary wheeze. "You're doing great."

She shot him a fiery look, and he backed off, hands held out. She finished with a groan and rolled onto her back to catch her breath. "My arms feel like Jell-O."

"Good. That means it's working."

"What's next?"

"I like to do crunches next. Give your arms a break. Ever done crunches before?"

"Horribly, I'm sure." He gestured to show him, and she fumbled through the exercise. His back ached just watching. "Okay, stop."

Her head dropped to the ground and lolled to look at him, awaiting instruction. It'd be easier to show her. He pulled off his shirt, and she rolled her eyes. "Is that necessary?"

"Stop pretending you don't like it." She scoffed, but her blush gave her away.

He demonstrated a damn good sit-up if he did say so himself, lecturing her on the placement of hips and minimizing back strain. All the while, she studied his toned stomach with a no doubt purely rational eye, barely blinking. And of course he couldn't resist showing off for her a little more than necessary. He might be sore the next day, but the impressed expression that shone through her guard made it more than worth it.

"Alright, your turn. And don't strain your neck this time. Use your abdominals."

She managed a better attempt this time. He knelt beside her to press her shoulder back. "Straight," he reminded. "Don't pull on your neck."

After ten, she was aching. He gave her a break; then pushed her through another ten. Then fifteen. Then twenty, though she rushed the last two and had to redo them. She groaned, "This is torture."

"Come on. Let's get you to twenty-five and you can stop for today."

"Twenty-five?"

He took in her tired expression and desperately wanted to go easy on her. But she was counting on him to train her, and he had to push her if she wanted to reach the goal in time. "Come on. Slow and steady. Focus on your breathing."

She started the set when the door swung open and a noisy Avaric barreled his way through. "Seven o'clock. Zita's bringing her roommate for you, so you better not wimp out on me, or I'll- why's the artichoke on the ground? She does know she's not really grass, right?"

"He does know that asses don't need to talk, right?"

Fiyero point a finger at her, "You, focus on your crunches. And you," he pointed to Avaric, "out. You can come back when we're done training."

"But I want to watch the artichoke turn colors."

"Out," he led his friend out by the shoulder. "I'll see you tonight. Philosophy Club?"

"Nah, Ozdust. Her roommate's a little skittish. Crazy hot though. And I'm sure your little prince act will charm the pants off her well enough. Zita swears she wants you bad."

"You're disgusting," Elphaba huffed from her fifteenth crunch.

"You're a vegetable," Avaric tossed back as he slipped through the door. "Seven. No excuses."

Fiyero shut him out and turned back to his pupil. The disapproval screamed from her face. "We broke up, Elphie. The whole point is to move on."

"I didn't say a word." But the grim set to her lips had its own silent accusations.

"Galinda's moved on. Who's she with now, Gregory? I don't see why I'm not allowed the same." But even as he denied it, his conscience prickled at the thought of Zita's mystery roommate throwing herself at him. Like it or not, he had a reputation to uphold, and a scandalacious prince does not sit at home on Friday nights.

"Your business."

"Then stop yelling at me about it," he snapped. She made a face. "You're yelling with your eyes, and you know it."

"Fine." She snapped her eyes shut, but his mood had already ruined. She finished the set, and he sent her off with a half-hearted encouragement. Why it got under his skin, he couldn't say, but suddenly he felt as if he had something to prove.


	5. My Heart Was Never Pure

AN: Thank you all so much for the reviews and for taking the time to read my work. I really appreciate it.

* * *

><p>Fiyero rubbed his aching eyes. The girl had been beautiful, just as Avaric had promised, but he couldn't help a twinge of guilt when he thought of how she'd hung all over him. How he'd let her. How much he'd had to drink, and where in Oz he might be waking up.<p>

His bleary eyes peeked out at his own room, but the heavy weight of a girl on his arm told him all he needed to know of what must've happened last night. A knock resounded in his room like a cannon, or so it felt to his pounding head. He stumbled wearily to the door. "Uh?"

Elphaba cocked an eyebrow at him, his sheet wrapped loosely around his waist. "You're late." Her gaze flicked to the still-naked girl sprawled across his mattress. "Though I can guess why. Should I leave you to it, then?"

He felt a wave of nausea at the thought of running, but no way was he letting her smug attitude bleed into the entire weekend. "Give me five."

He shut the door and pulled on shorts and a loose T-shirt. He draped the sheet over the girl's still prone form and shook her shoulder gently. She didn't wake. The smell of toothpaste set his stomach on edge, but he trudged through. And with a final futile effort to wake his unexpected guest, he slipped out in the hopes that she'd be gone when he got back.

Elphaba looked up from her stretching as he came in the hall, and he rubbed a hand over his eyes. Between her smug look and his hangover, his mood was in no danger of lifting. "You look like you had fun last night."

"I did, okay?" His hostile tone took her by surprise, but her only response was a subtle lift to her eyebrow. "Alright, get it over with."

"What?"

"The lecture."

"No lecture." She started toward the stairs. "So who's your new friend?"

He glared at her, and then grimaced. For the life of him, he couldn't remember even the smallest part of her name. "No one important."

Elphaba set out at a faster pace than usual, no doubt to punish him for last night's revelries. He might have wanted to curl up in a ball and vomit until Lurlinemas, but he kept pace with enough outward ease to fool her. Or so he thought. "Need a break?" she tossed, but he shook his head.

"You?"

"Fine," her breath uneven. She sped up, and he sped up to match. Soon they were both panting and covered in sweat.

He caught her arm and dragged her to a stop. "Can we just stop this?"

"Stop what?" She wrenched her arm from his grip. But then she bent over, hands behind her head as she tried to catch her breath.

"I get the feeling you're upset with me."

"No-" she started, but when he gave her a skeptical look, she shrugged. "You don't even know her name? This is why you broke up with Galinda? For an endless string of bimbos that are so meaningful for you, you don't even bother to introduce yourself?"

"What's it to you what I do?"

"Nothing. Can we go back to training now, or should I just run on my own?"

He tugged a hand through his hair and waved for her to lead on. Why should she care? He'd always been a playboy. The spoiled scandalacious prince. Everyone knew that. How else was he supposed to act after a break-up?

She shook her head at him and broke into a sprint toward the courts. He chased after her, but it was several meters before he caught up.

He turned to her to defend himself, but something about her expression stung him, as if he couldn't possibly say anything to save himself. He fell into step without words, and the tense silence stretched between them as she finally stopped racing away.

After twenty minutes, his nausea started to pass as he sweated out the last of the previous night's alcohol. They reached the batting cages, and without argument, they each collected their half of the supplies. The silence had drawn a sort of truce between them.

She slipped in as he warmed up the machine, her fingers white where they gripped the bat. "Helmet," he reminded, and she quickly tugged it on. Something about her nerves sent a strum of affection through him, and as easily as they'd fought, he felt his annoyance with her pass. "You'll be fine."

"Yep." But she eyed the chute with apprehension.

"Show me a few practice swings." She'd progressed fairly well with his pitches, but a machine could be a different experience. She swung tensely, the arc tight and her shoulders rigid. "Relax."

She stretched again, moving her shoulders in circles, and nodded.

"Ready?" Another terse nod, and he fed a ball in.

She watched it shoot out and swung, clipping the edge enough to earn a foul ball. He fed another, and she hit it with more accuracy. After a few more, he switched it to an automatic setting and paused the throw. He walked over and held out a hand for helmet and bat. "Keep an eye on the timing. This is the same one that Bidsk always uses for us, so I'm sure you'll redo your practical with it."

She nodded and waited for him to get in position. He signaled her to start it, then focused his attention on the machine. The first couple were harder without a warm-up, but then he fell into his groove, knocking ball after ball into the safety net. He felt her eyes analyzing him, and he couldn't resist showing off, as usual. After a few dozen solid hits, he called for her to turn it off.

"All yours."

"How many does he expect me to hit?"

"Ten points for each ball out of thirty. Not too bad, actually."

"So if I can hit ten in a row-"

"Everyone would be very impressed, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. One-third is a pretty good average. I'm starting it." She fidgeted with the helmet and took a strong stance just as he'd taught her. The first few misses rattled her, but she got the sixth and seventh. He paused the machine.

"How're my elbows?"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop over-analyzing. You're doing fine." He lifted the bat when he reached her, and she stepped out of his way. "Your swing is too fast, like you're anticipating instead of reacting." He demonstrated and showed her a more natural swing. "Keep your focus on the ball instead of your bat."

She took the bat back and stepped in place. "I thought I was low."

"A little." He adjusted her arms to a better height. "But the focus is still more important. Less mechanics, more intention. You gotta focus on the goal."

She snorted. "Not the person I'd imagine to lecture me on goals."

"Oh, shut up." He thumped her helmet and sauntered back to the pitching machine. She gave him a nod, and he switched it back on. She lost some of the tension and after about a dozen, she'd started to get the hang of it.

He traded with her again, this time for a break rather than a lecture. A pair of his teammates wandered past, calling out their greetings, and he fit a quick wave between swings.

Elphaba paused the machine, and he handed her the bat. He watched her start the round until, convinced she would be fine, he stepped out to talk to his friends.

"New girl already? I thought even you needed some time between," Tavon teased.

He winced at the mention of last night, but Elphaba's attention stayed on the steady stream of balls.

Aeric slapped a beefy hand on Fiyero's shoulder. "The one you had last night not a good enough lay or something?" The boy eyed Elphaba as her swing connected soundly with the pitch. "This one must be a firecracker."

"Shut up. You know we're training. Nothing like that."

"Yeah, how's that going?" Tavon asked in a friendly tone, but Fiyero couldn't stop watching Aeric watch Elphaba. He felt a sudden urge to punch his friend in the jaw.

"Good. I should get back."

"Let me know if she wants me to give her any pointers." Aeric flashed a wicked smirk that Fiyero knew too often from its place on his own face.

"Got it covered, thanks."

"Not quite the kind of pointers I meant."

Even Tavon rolled his eyes at his friend's crude joke. "Alright, lover boy. Time to bat." The pair took the cage next to theirs, and Aeric caught Elphaba's eye to wink at her.

She scowled and swung back just in time to knock the ball in another foul. Fiyero stopped the machine. "How'd you do?"

"About a quarter. I got five in a row."

"Good." She was making great progress. He would have to ask Bidsk if she could take this practical first. Maybe it would help to have one test behind her. Boost her confidence, and convince the coach that she deserved this second chance. "Ready to go?"

She nodded and unhooked her helmet. Her long hair tumbled out, and Aeric catcalled from the cage beside them. She studiously ignored him, hefting the bat over her shoulder as Fiyero collected the baseballs. "Leaving so soon, sweetheart?"

"I'll miss you, too, honey," he tossed back, and Tavon had to dodge the pitch, he was laughing so hard.

"Yeah, yeah. You're just trying to make me feel special so you can get in my pants." Aeric slapped his ass and mimed a tiger claw. Even Elphaba had to chuckle, though she quickly caught herself. "Well, don't try anything funny. My momma raised me right."

"Me, too. She raised me real good." Tavon shot back, waggling his eyebrows. Aeric slapped the pause button and burst across the cage to tackle his friend. "What? I'm a big fan of your momma. She's got such a big…heart." He shook with laughter, not even defending himself against the fake assault as Aeric caught him in a headlock.

"That's my momma, you prick." He rubbed the taller boy's head with his knuckles, ruffling the gelled look. "What're you, an animal?"

"Come on. They're just showing off." Fiyero took the bat, helmet and bucket of baseballs back to their places, and Elphaba fell in step beside him.

They walked back to her dorm, chatting pleasantly about her progress and his studies. She offered to proofread his history paper, which he begrudgingly admitted he hadn't done. "Why am I not surprised? Well you can use my book I suppose." She held open the door to Crage Hall. "Coming up?"

He hung back, tempted. "I should really shower."

"You'll have to rely on your own one of those."

"Later?" She nodded, though she avoided his eyes. They hadn't had much luck with delayed plans, no doubt due to his flaky memory.

"I should study anyway."

"Good work today." He nudged her shoulder, and she rolled her eyes as she did after every work out. She'd argued that she didn't need constant reassurance for a fragile ego like he did, but he knew she appreciated it even if she wouldn't admit it. "You'll be a jock before you know it."

"Perish the thought."

He took in her playful mood and reconsidered going upstairs, but she had already turned to go. "Later, Elphie."

"Don't call me that." But her words had no bite, and she didn't bother to turn back to say them.

"Whatever you say, Pookie."

He couldn't see the eyeroll, but he knew it was there. The door shut off any response, and he headed back toward his dorm.

The alcohol from his sweat seemed to coat his skin, and he looked forward to a long, hot shower. Maybe then he'd head back to Elphaba's room. She'd force him to write his paper, and he might last the week without a lecture. Or more likely he'd just take a nap.

Either way it was a great relief to find the room empty.


	6. My Favorite Game

Fiyero paced outside the girls' locker room, a nervous hand rumpling through his hair. As he passed by, Bidsk clapped a large hand on his shoulder.

"Settle, boy. You get your extra credit either way."

He forced a wan smile. "I just really want her to do well. She's worked so hard."

The coach nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He thumped Fiyero again absently as he steered him out of the locker room and up to the gym.

Fiyero had asked to start with baseball, thanks to Elphaba's relative comfort with it, but Bidsk insisted on retesting in order. Which meant basketball first.

His stomach churned as he sat on the bleachers, tense and powerless to do anything to help her now. She walked out from the dressing room, her school-issued uniform showing far more of her long, lean leg than he'd have guessed. Who knew she was hiding that under her baggy sweats?

She bent over to stretch, the short grey shorts sliding higher on her thigh, and Fiyero wondered how Bidsk could have managed to give her less than an A, no matter how bad she'd been. He'd give her extra credit just to wear that more often. Did all the girls wear that?

An image swam to mind of a crowd of young, attractive girls in short shorts and cropped tops with Elphaba and Galinda in the center, all bare legs and arms and midriffs. He needed to come to class with her more often.

Tavon plopped into a seat beside him, and Fiyero greeted him with a nod. "You look happy."

"Thrilled." He raked a hand through his hair again. "You think Coach feels this way in our games?"

They glanced over at the balding, thickset man with a permanent expression of boredom etched across his face. "Nah." Tavon looked back to Fiyero. "You think she'll pass?"

"I hope so. She's gotten better, but basketball … it really gets in her head."

"Yeah."

"Where's Aeric?"

Tavon shrugged. "I didn't tell him. Figured you didn't need to deal with his crap today." He propped his elbows on the bleacher behind him. "Plus, he'd only be here to ogle the girls."

"And you?"

"Sheer and utter boredom. If I see another page of history notes, I'll have to murder someone." Then he sat up and nodded toward the door. "Who's that?"

Fiyero's face dropped at the sight of a blonde in pink framed by the doorway. She came over. "Galinda."

"Fiyero."

Her eyes flicked to Tavon, who was staring…blatantly. "Hi?"

"Hey there, beautiful." Fiyero would have laughed at the cheesy line delivered in a false deep voice if he hadn't felt like vomiting.

"What're you doing here?"

She sat primly on the edge of the bench, a clear sign of her unease. "It's her first retest. Of course I'm here." He should've guessed. They were best friends after all. She beamed and waved at Elphaba, whose eye roll couldn't disguise her smile. Then Elphaba's eyes shifted to him, and he did his best to force a reassuring grin.

She bit her lip. Okay, maybe not so reassuring. "Excuse me." He slipped down to the court for a quick pep talk and certainly not to escape the awkwardness in the bleachers. He bounced a fist against Elphaba's shoulder. "How you feeling?"

"Fine." Her impassive face didn't fool him. She'd retreated into the logic that wouldn't help in the slightest.

"You'll do fine." She nodded, unimpressed. When she took a step to leave, he caught her hand. "Don't over-think it. You'll be great."

She pressed her lips in a line.

"Or I'll tackle Bidsk and get you a redo." She smirked, and he knew he almost had her. He cracked his knuckles and wiggled his eyebrows. Her face split into a reluctant grin.

"Shut up."

He grinned back at her. "Should I give you a slap for good luck?" She shoved him. "What? Quarterbacks always do that, don't they?"

"Wrong sport, genius."

"Or you could slap mine." She cackled at his wink, and if not for their spectators, he would have shaken his butt at her to push it farther. Oz, he loved teasing her.

"Go." She sent him back to the bleachers with a stern hand on her hip, and he gamely complied. Distracting her had eased the crushing anxiety…until he saw what waited in the stands.

Tavon leaned precariously with an arm propped behind Galinda. He had an enraptured expression as she talked, her eyes bright. Then she caught his gaze. The joy fizzled out, and her smile faded.

Tavon and Galinda? He gulped a groan. It was one thing for her to date other guys. But his friend? And even if they did have some irresistible fate connection, did they have to get together right in front of him?

Elphaba took her place at the free-throw line, and he focused his attention on her. She dribbled the ball and eyed the basket. He could practically hear her analyzing everything she'd worked on in their lessons. "Relax," he muttered under his breath, willing her to do it, "relax, damn it."

She held up the ball, muscles coiled in anticipation, and with the best form she could muster, shot it. It bounced off the rim with a dull thwack. She forced a deep breath and looked to him.

He forced a smile. "Close," he said. "Aim for the net, not the rim."

She tried again, narrowing in on the basket. "Oh, I never knew that." Galinda's giggle brought his attention. "I'm sure I'd be terrible."

"I'd be happy to help you, if you'd like."

He swore he could hear her eyelashes fluttering. "Oh, well, I don't think I'm really the athletic type." Fiyero snorted. Not with those nails, she wasn't. It might chip the precious paint.

A silence told him she'd heard his snort and interpreted it correctly. "Anyway, coaching doesn't seem to have helped Elphaba any, though of course you aren't her trainer. I'm sure you'd do much better."

Tavon's voice was taken aback by the sudden cattiness. "Fiyero's great, and I know he's put a lot of time into this. I'm sure it's just nerves."

"Right." He could imagine her blush. "Of course."

Tavon's reply stung in its own way. He refocused on his student as she missed her fourth shot. Without a word, he slipped from his seat and crossed the court to her.

She looked startled. He took the ball and stood in front of her. "Try not to concentrate so hard."

"I am trying," she insisted. "I'm relaxing and aiming and not concentrating and thinking about not thinking and everything."

He couldn't help the laugh. Sometimes she could be unbearably cute. He ignored her glare. "Shoot past me."

Her skepticism showed in her eyes, but she picked up the ball. He knocked it away. Her eyes widened, and he grinned. For a moment she stared at him, until he saw it shift. Competition, that was the way with her.

She lifted the ball past him and aimed a shot. The ball went through the hoop as it had numerous times the last six times they'd played.

It helped him, too, to focus on her instead of the trauma brewing in the bleachers. He threw himself into stealing the ball and making her work for it back. As the time ticked past, his enthusiasm became more genuine than forced. The world shrunk to the pair of them horsing around on the court like every other morning.

"That's ten in. Good enough." Bidsk set the clipboard down with a grunt. "And I'll count Tiggular's interference as the second half. You're done."

She hadn't made all of them, but she'd passed. He grinned. "You did it."

Her grateful expression held a restrained, almost shy note. "Yeah. One down."

"Be excited, would you?" He threw his arm around her, unimpressed with her caution. "We made it through the first retest."

"But there's still over a dozen tests left to go."

Ugh, she would focus on the negative. Before he could rebuke her, Galinda and Tavon walked up to congratulate her. He couldn't miss the way the blonde held his friend's hand, cheeks flushed and smile bright. So they were together, then. If not yet official, at least in a practical, inevitable sense.

"Elphie!" Galinda dropped said hand to throw her arms around her roommate's neck. "You did it."

"Fiyero helped," came the quick answer, which he waved off.

"Not from what I saw," Tavon teased. "That's some pretty weak game, Yero. Can't even block a girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elphaba turned on him, and Fiyero had to stop her before she could build up any steam.

"Nothing. He's just jealous that we're both better free-throw shooters than he is, if our last game has anything to show."

"Ooh, too far." Tavon reeled from an imaginary blow. "Way to go below the belt. If I remember, you weren't so spectacular yourself."

Galinda linked her arm with his, and just like that, Fiyero didn't feel like playing any more. He guided the group toward the door. Elphaba sensed his change in mood and caught his elbow before he followed the others out. "Hey. What's with you?"

"Nothing."

She eyed him, then decided to let it go. "I've got to change, but if you wait, we can work out a schedule for next week."

Ah, distraction, their favorite diversion. He flashed a grin. "Do you have to change? Those are some pretty wicked shorts."

"Shut up." She rolled her eyes. "You'll wait?"

"Course."

He lounged against the same wall, this time much more relaxed. Bidsk gave him a look. "No practice today, kid. It's Saturday."

"I know, sir. I'm just waiting for Elphaba."

"Oh." He took a step down the hall, then turned back as if hesitant to broach the subject. "She did alright."

"Thanks, coach."

"You, um," he cleared his throat, "you should be proud." Then before Fiyero could wipe the surprised expression off his face, Bidsk retreated to his office down the hall.

Elphaba opened the door before he had recovered. "You alright?" She drew the words out as if he held a knife to a kitten. "You seem a little…dazed."

He grinned. "Those shorts will do that to a guy."

She shoved his arm and started toward the door. "Lecher."

"Sexy."

She snorted. "Riiight. That's me. One hundred percent seductress."

"You trollop, you." He fell in step with her. "So what's the plan tonight?"

Her face turned serious in an instant. "I thought we could tackle soccer next. I know I have a few make-ups to go first, but I think it might be my worst."

"Okay, first of all, scary thought. But that's not what I meant. What's the plan to _celebrate_? Dinner? Champagne? Crazy, wild party at the Ozdust?"

She stared at him as if he'd grown three heads.

"I didn't think the last one was very likely, but a boy can hope." Elphaba fidgeted with the strap to her bag, and he spun her to face him. "No. Uh, uh."

"What?"

"You are _not_ going to hole up in your room and blow this off like you weren't completely awesome."

She sighed. "I wasn't. I wouldn't have passed if you hadn't come down."

"But I did, and you did." He fought the urge to shake her. "Fine, then come out because _I _was awesome."

A smile seeped through her guard. "You don't need me to throw yourself a party."

"Oz, you're insufferable. You're coming to dinner with me, and you're going to celebrate. Or else."

She laughed at his melodrama. "Or else what?"

"I will kidnap you and hold you hostage for a week's worth of classes." He narrowed his eyes in mock challenge. "_And_ I'll tell Galinda that you would love a makeover. Complete with a paid-for shopping spree."

"You can't hold me hostage and send me for fashion torture at the same time."

"I can. I'm resourceful."

"Sadly, you are." She shrugged. "If I have no choice…"

"You don't."

"Fine. Let's go."

But he could pull her away, Liamappeared at the edge of a clearing. He waved hello before they could duck away, and Elphaba took a subconscious step closer to him. "Elphaba!" The boy jogged up with a grin. "How are you? I haven't seen you around much lately." She blanched.

"Oh, you know, training hard for all those retests," Fiyero supplied. "In fact, we should get a move on. We're celebrating her first pass."

"That's great! I knew you'd be amazing."

She wanted to argue, but she settled for a tense "thanks."

"So where are we going?"

The question took Fiyero aback. He hadn't meant it as an invitation, but as an excuse. Surely the boy could have guessed that. He slid an arm around Elphaba's waist in a clearer dismissal. "I don't know, babe. Where do you want me to take you?"

"Home."

He ignored her gibe and flashed a wide grin. "Before that, sweetheart." He turned to Liam. "Women. Always want the dessert before the meal."

He didn't risk a look at her, but he felt her displeasure in a sharp elbow to his ribs. Liam took a step back. "Oh." A dogged look crept into his face. "Well, you'll have to let me buy you a drink, wherever you want."

"Some other time." He waved at Avaric on the opposite side of the street, who started toward them. "We'd better get going."

"Right. Some other time." He grinned at Elphaba. "Congratulations, Elphie."

"Don't call me that."

Fiyero waved goodbye and hauled her after him before she could entrap them again. He waited until they'd met Avaric to drop his arm. "Come on. We're going out tonight."

Avaric eyed Elphaba. "The artichoke, too? Doesn't she turn into a pumpkin after nine?" He grinned at his own vegetable humor, and Fiyero gave a heavy sigh.

"Be nice."

Elphaba edged away. "I'm tired, anyway. We can celebrate some other time."

"Celebrate?" Avaric perked up. "What're we celebrating? Did the cabbage finally get a heart?"

"Aw, did the monkey finally get a brain?"

"Can you two stop it?" Fiyero pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Never mind, I don't want to put up with you two bickering all night." He pointed at Elphaba. "You are coming to a nice dinner with me, and you're going to drink some wine and admit that you did well today." He turned on Avaric. "You are going to behave, or go find something else to do until after dinner because I am tired of you two pestering each other."

Avaric's attention had already moved on. "Whatever. Find me after."

Fiyero guided them toward one of his favorite restaurants, until he caught sight of Galinda through the window. He winced.

"Care to talk about it?" His head jerked up to catch her neutral expression.

His answer offered no argument, "Nope." He spun her around with a fake smile plastered over his face. "What do you say to some seafood? I know just the place."


	7. Much to My Surprise

Over the next couple weeks, Elphaba passed her baseball retest as well as its more aerobic cousin, tennis. They'd spent some time on soccer and bicycling, though the latter left Fiyero feeling uncomfortably like a young father as he let go of her handlebars. Her push-ups and abdominal crunches were shaping up, and she could run a full 45 minutes without losing her breath. Overall, he felt like the best coach in the history of coaches.

"We should start on the flexibility exercises," she offered, passing him a piece of toast. He munched it happily and nodded. "I think I might be okay with balance, but I haven't tried anything past the basics."

"They're not my strength, either, but the fundaments are the same. Shouldn't take you too long to pick up."

"You're feeling optimistic today. Does your friend's mysterious absence have anything to do with that?"

He felt himself frown. "Nope." But his eyes automatically sought out Galinda surrounded by her usual gaggle. Tavon hadn't spoken to her in at least three days, but Fiyero knew that didn't mean much. They might not be together, but that didn't mean they weren't about to be.

"You could tell him it bothers you."

He stole another piece of her toast. "But since it doesn't, how about we focus on where to work on your stretches. I'm guessing you don't want to practice on the courts, and your room's not an option with Galinda still wanting to murder me."

"She doesn't want to murder you."

He went for her apple, but she snatched it out of his grip. "Spoilsport."

She took a smug bite and propped herself back against the table. "Let's do your room."

"Are you saying you feel most comfortable in my bedroom?"

She slapped his hand away mid-reach. "I'm saying I don't want the world staring at my butt."

"Just me, huh." He winked. "It's alright. You can stare at mine, too."

She let out a long sigh despite knowing he didn't mean it. "Volleyball it is."

"You think I couldn't ogle your butt in volleyball, too?" But he picked up her tray as a gesture of good faith. "Might even make it easier. Less distractions."

"Until you get hit in the head with the ball."

"Yes, well, except for that." He dumped the tray off at the cafeteria's exit. "Six sound good?"

"Make it seven-thirty. I've got to study for an actual class first."

"Ouch." He fell in step beside her though his class met in the opposite building. "Huh. I don't know if I've ever seen my room at seven-thirty before."

She rolled her eyes. "How are _you_ tutoring _me_?"

"Good genes."

He justified skipping his class to review flexibility exercises himself. All teasing aside, he really wanted her to do well. And if that meant a little homework for him, so be it. Training her had gotten him out of countless assignments already.

He decided he might show her some yoga, too. If anyone needed a way to relax, she did. He spent a little time flipping through pictures of girls modeling various poses before he started to feel like a pervert.

With his conscience needling him, he picked up the book for the class he missed. He paged through it, hoping he would recognize what the class had covered. Nothing looked familiar. Was this the right book? He shuffled through the paperwork on his desk in search of the syllabus.

That made him noticed how badly his room needed to be cleaned. He piled up his clothing and straightened some of the mess. Pleased with his bout of productivity, he decided to take a break.

The coffee shop was crowded, but no more than normal. He got a double espresso and retreated to the patio to look for a seat. All the tables were occupied, but Fiyero figured he would know at least somebody. Sure enough, scrunched in the back corner was the munchkin that sometimes hung out with Elphaba. He plopped into the seat opposite.

"Hey. Boq, right?"

The boy's head jerked up in surprise. "Um, yeah. Hey. What're you…what's up?

"Crowded today, huh?" Fiyero jerked his head toward the packed building with an easy demeanor. He didn't remember Boq being this jumpy. "Good book?"

Boq closed the text with a frown. "Not particularly. We've got a test tomorrow. I swear, no one can understand this stupid book. Even Elphaba has to study."

"Oh, that's what she has to work on." Boq furrowed his brow, so Fiyero explained, "She had to postpone our workout."

"Yeah, how's that going? I can't picture Elphaba as athletic."

Fiyero sipped his coffee to hide his frown. He tried not to react defensively as the boy hadn't meant it as an insult. He was Elphaba's friend too, after all. "She's not bad. Getting better every day."

"Do you tutor anyone else? I'd imagine you could make some money if you wanted."

"Nah." The thought of tutoring anyone else felt wrong somehow. "Too much work. This gets me out of class, which is way better than money."

He didn't add that he would do it for free regardless. Helping Elphaba barely felt like work, anyway. It felt like an honor. How many people could say they were tutoring a genius like her?

Boq fidgeted a little in the silence, so Fiyero prompted, "You're dating her sister, right?"

The boy flushed a deep scarlet. "Um, no."

"Oh. Sorry. I thought-"

"I was." Boq stared at his empty cup. "We broke up."

"Oh." Fiyero took a large swallow to hide the awkwardness. "Sorry about that. Your idea or hers?"

"Both of us." So him. "It just didn't work out."

He clearly didn't want to talk about it, so Fiyero let it drop. "Well, good luck on your test."

"Thanks."

Fiyero picked up both the empty cups and gestured a goodbye. Part of him wanted to go harass Elphaba (the newly caffeinated part, no doubt), but he decided to get a quick run in. By the time he'd gotten back and showered, it was already a quarter past seven.

The knock on his door took him by surprise. He tugged on a shirt and opened the door with, "You're early."

Avaric propped his forearm against the doorframe. "Dressing down, I see."

"Training. Elphaba had to study late."

Avaric rolled his eyes. "Of course she did."

"Stop."

"Whatever. So you're out for tonight, then?" He wiggled a bottle of whiskey. "Philosophy Club with twins. I'll share, but if you take them both again, I'm punching you in the nuts."

He pushed back his hair. "Nah, I'll pass." Avaric gave him an odd look. "Wouldn't want to get punched because I'm so much more attractive than you. How can I help it that women can't resist me?"

Elphaba came up behind Avaric, eyebrows raised. "I see I'm interrupting the think tank of the century."

"Artichoke." Avaric nodded at her in an almost civil manner, if not for the slur.

She returned the gesture. "Algae."

"Have a nice 'training session'."

"Have fun destroying your last couple brain cells."

Fiyero fought a sigh. "Okay, and with that, I'll see you later Avaric. Enjoy your twins."

"Oh, I plan to."

Elphaba stripped off her jacket as he shut the door. "How can you be friends with him?"

"He's not so bad. You got other clothes?"

"Yeah. Where should I change?" He flashed a grin, but she had already started toward his bathroom. "You cleaned."

"Yep." Was it that noticeable? "I wouldn't want you fleeing in terror."

"Bored?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

She came back out, long hair swept up and long legs bared by her gym shorts. "What first?"

"Arms." He fell into his teaching role, adjusting her posture so she could feel the stretch. They'd started easy, but after a few minutes, he could tell she was already flexible enough to pass. And she could touch her toes, much to his enjoyment. "Ready for some yoga?"

"Yoga?"

"The first one is basically the toe-stretch you have to pass." He helped her into position, a flat hand on her upper back to guide her forward. Then he took the pose on the floor beside her. "Focus on your breaths."

They fell into a warm silence, breathing in time. "I'm going to fall asleep."

"Relaxing, right?"

"Are you saying I need to relax?"

He sat up. "Lurline, yes. You're like the epitome of tightly-wound."

"Gee, thanks." She stood up. "Let's do another."

He demonstrated a lunging position that she copied. "It's got some stupid name. They all do, but I can't remember it to save my life. Probably raining chicken or shivering squirrel or something."

"Leaping antelope."

"Flying frog."

"Who're you calling a frog?" She glared, but her laughter took out any hint of serious offense.

"Try to bring your hips in, like this." She adjusted, but her posture slipped forward. He set a hand on her lower back and one on her shoulder. "Balance."

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"How else do you expect to get better? Here, try this one." He showed her a side extension. "It should be good for your back."

"How long do I have to hold it?"

"Not long. Focus on your breaths. It'll get easier."

She made a concerted effort for deeper breaths, and he could see her gradually relaxing into the pose.

"You're doing great. Want a hard one?"

She shrugged. "Why not?"

He showed her an inversion, difficult enough that he'd had to practice it. "Good. Stretch for the ground. Remember to breathe."

"Easy for you to say," her voice muffled with her chin pressed to her chest. "I feel like taffy."

"Three, two, one. Okay, up." He propped a hand against her back to help her untangle herself. "Last one." Once she'd lifted her legs, he helped her elevate into a modified handstand. "Slower motion. Feel the muscles stretch as you lift yourself up."

"You mean burn?"

"You can do this." He set a hand on her thigh so she wouldn't fall as she moved. "Great. Now, legs down and back, like half a jumping jack."

"Masochist."

But she did it. "Five more." He took a step back, impressed with her progress. "Four. Great, lift up. Don't tip forward." She righted herself and made it through another scissor-kick. "Three. Push your weight up through your feet like a string is pulling you toward the ceiling." Her back lengthened.

"Oh, I'm going to feel this tomorrow."

He chuckled. "You're doing amazing. Hips back. Two more." She started to wobble. "Breathe in. Find your center." But her arms couldn't cope with the pressure of the extra motion. He tried to steady her, but got there too late to do anything but topple over with her. Her knee caught his stomach with an, "oof."

She let out a cackle, which morphed into a genuine laugh that had him joining in. "Well, that went well."

Her eyes danced in the lamplight, brightened by her wide smile. Before he even formed the intention, he caught her chin and kissed her.

Shocked, they both froze against each other, but then the intensity of the feeling flooded through him. Oz, she felt amazing. How had he never kissed her before?

Her lips were so soft. He deepened the kiss as his other hand came to her side. His heart pounded. He sucked her bottom lip in his mouth, and she mumbled an 'mm' against his lips. He rolled them so he lay on top of her, and his hand drifted to her hipbone. Her breath came fast now, unsteady. He wandered to her neck, nipping and soothing the delicate skin. "Um, Fiyero…"

His hand slipped up, under the thick cotton of her blouse, and he returned to her lips. He stroked the soft, smooth skin of her stomach, higher and higher. Her fingers fisted in his shirt, and he buried his other hand in her hair. His hips rocked against hers, lost in the same whirlwind of feeling as the rest of him.

It took him a long moment to realize she was pushing him off. He stumbled back, head still spinning. Eyes wide, she gaped back at him, dazed by what had happened. He swiped a hand through his hair, trying to regain some sense of control.

Flat on his back, he stared up at the ceiling. What had come over him? After a long moment, he breathed, "Wow."

She worried her lip. "That was…"

"Intense." He rolled on his side to face her. "Sorry if I came on a little strong." She blinked, too inscrutable a reaction for his dazed brain to process. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's…unexpected is all. Not what I'd have thought of a..."

He frowned. "But, haven't you been kissed before?"

She blushed in answer. "If you count little Munchkin boys daring each other to kiss me. Not that I blame them. I am the living embodiment of cooties."

She flinched from the tenderness in his expression as he reached a hand to stroke her cheek. "You're not. You're amazing."

She stood. "I should go. It's getting late."

"I'll walk you back." He expected her to argue, but she let him. They didn't talk much. Whatever conversation he tried felt too trivial, and the awkwardness between them grew into a gulf large enough to drown in. The sight of Crage Hall was a relief.

"Goodnight."

He wanted to kiss her again, and he let himself imagine pulling her back into his arms. But she had a hand on the door already, her back to him. "See you tomorrow."

Her smile was too tense and small to be genuine.

And without another word, she stepped through and shut the door. He watched even after she'd gone. What had that been? His mind reeled, too lost in the unexpected evening to make any sense of it. Why had he kissed her? And why did it feel so exhilarating? More so, why did she seem so unaffected? Had he pushed her away by moving too fast? He hadn't meant to. He hadn't even meant to kiss her at all.

Dazed, he headed toward his room, then thought better of it. He needed somewhere he couldn't think until he had a chance to process this.

He turned left and knocked on Avaric's door.


	8. How Woozy My Eyes

Fiyero's alarm clock clicked over to the hour, and he threw on his jogging clothes. Despite his sleepless night, he felt exploding with energy. The club with Avaric and his twins had made a welcome distraction, though he'd sent both girls home with his friend. Instead, he'd spent the night with memories of how Elphaba smelt, tasted, felt pressed against him. How could sleep compare with that? He couldn't wait to see her this morning. Straighten out whatever had gone wrong.

He reached Crage Hall to find it deserted. He checked the time. He wasn't that early. She should be stretching. He waited a few long minutes for her to appear, but when a group of girls opened the door to leave, he took the opportunity to slip in.

Luckily, he had quite a bit of practice sneaking into girls' dormitories over the years. He made it up the stairs to her room and knocked twice. No answer. Another sharp knock, and he called, "Elphie, it's me. Open the door."

A clatter sounded, and the door swung open. Half awake, Galinda glared at him from beneath a ruffled mess of hair. He took a step back. "She's not here. Try the library."

He thanked her, but she slammed the door shut. Galinda was not much of a morning person.

He trekked to the library, only to find the large building locked and dark. Even the courts were empty at this time of morning. Out of options, he headed back toward his room.

Halfway back he saw Boq headed in the same direction. He called out to the munchkin, who gave a surprised jolt. Fiyero jogged to catch up. "Hey, Boq, right?"

The boy sighed. "Yes."

His reaction drew a frown from Fiyero. "What?" Boq studied his feet. "It's not Biq, is it? Have I been calling you the wrong name after all? Geez, Galinda would never let me live that down."

The kid's cheeks couldn't possibly be redder without serious biological harm. "No, it's Boq."

"Then-"

"You do realize that you've asked me that same question every time we've run into each other for as long as I've known you. Months, now."

He rubbed his neck self-consciously. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I…won't ask again." Though knowing him, he probably would.

"It's fine." Boq started toward the dorm again, and Fiyero fell in step beside him. "What're you doing out here this early? I thought you were working with Elphaba on weekends."

"I can't seem to find her. Hey, you're her friend. Know where she might go?"

Boq shrugged. "Library, I'd guess. Or class. You'd know more than I would."

"How's that?"

"I haven't seen her outside class in ages."

"Oh. Well, if you see her..."

"Yeah, course." Boq slipped away as quickly as he could. Fiyero didn't think to ask until the boy had already left where he had come from so early. Maybe he hadn't known the library would be closed, though Boq seemed the type to know the hours. Maybe his break-up had messed with his mind more than – Oh, Nessa! He was such an idiot. Elphaba probably just needed to see her sister for something.

But he didn't exactly know where Nessa lived, and rumors were that her roommate was Morrible herself. No way he'd chance sneaking into that dorm. He considered asking Boq, but the munchkin seemed really annoyed with him already.

He spent a large portion of the morning trying to come up with any other idea, but brainstorming was not his forte. Noon hit, and he decided he might as well get some lunch. He was far more likely to run into her or her sister in the cafeteria than in his bedroom at least.

But neither Thropp decided to grace the room with their presence, and Fiyero didn't feel like any other company. He took the table by the window to stare out at the tree, trying to come up with any other options.

"Twins, man." Avaric plopped into the seat beside him and started in on his fries with gusto. "Oh, man, is there anything better?"

Fiyero stared at the tree moodily, all too aware of his answer.

"What's with you, lemon lips? You regretting your night alone?"

He turned to his friend, ignoring the genuine concern buried in the casual tone. "What's with you and food nicknames, anyway?"

Avaric leaned back. "Artichoke campaigning?"

"Her name's Elphaba."

He stared a moment before turning back to his fries. "Yep."

"That's it? No off-color joke? No quick insult?"

"Okay, first of all, 'off-color joke'? Are you trying to make this so easy?" Fiyero glared. "And second of all, of course I'm not going to insult your girlfriend, no matter how worthy I may find her. It'd be a waste of a perfectly pretty face - mine."

"What makes you think she's my girlfriend?"

Avaric gave him a shrewd look. "So she pissed at you or something? You're not your usual new-relationship rainbow-faced self."

"I don't know. She didn't show up this morning, and I haven't been able to find her." Fiyero fought to keep his voice even, but the frustration leaked in.

"Try the library or class or something. Isn't that where she always is?"

"Thanks, Avaric. A ton of help. I'd never have thought of those obvious places without you."

"I see her sarcasm is rubbing off."

Fiyero ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just-"

"No worries." Avaric stood up and collected his empty tray. "Well, seeing as the Arti-she and I aren't besties, that's the best I've got for you. Good luck."

"Thanks. And she's not exactly my girlfriend." He wanted to add the yet, but he didn't want to jinx it.

"Thank Oz. I'd never last a week calling her by her name."

After an hour of waiting, and moping, Fiyero decided to go back to her room. Wherever Elphaba had gone, surely she'd come home at some point. He knocked on the door softly, reluctant to shatter his last shreds of hope.

Galinda answered the door. "Again?"

"She hasn't come back?"

The blonde stepped back with a heavy sigh. "Did you ever think maybe she doesn't want you to find her?"

"Why? Did she say something to you?" She shot him a look. Even if her roommate had confided in her, Galinda would never tell anyone, especially Fiyero, what she'd said. "All the more reason for me to find her."

Reluctantly, she uncrossed her arms. "Fiyero, honestly, you should let it go."

He could tell the advice cost her, and he appreciated that. But he couldn't follow it. "At least tell me where I can find Nessa."

"Why do you want to talk to her sister?" He knew he didn't need to answer. Galinda sighed again and jotted down a room number on a piece of paper. "This isn't going to do you any good."

"Maybe not, but I have to try, don't I?"

Her neat script on the pink paper stung, a fond reminder of their days together. He didn't miss her, per se. But he hated her hating him. If only they could have stayed friends…

The neat cursive listed a room on the bottom floor, and he headed down to sweet-talk his way through Nessa. He knocked on the door and waited a long minute. He was about to knock again when the door flew open.

"Tiggular? What are you doing in the women's dorm?"

He gulped and looked up at Madame Morrible with his most innocent expression. "Morning, ma'am. I was looking for Miss Nessarose. Her sister and I are working on a project, and I needed some help finding her."

"A project?"

"Yes, ma'am. For Master Bidsk."

Morrible narrowed her eyes as if scanning his mind for the truth. "I'm not sure how Miss Thropp would help you find her sister. She has been here, working on her studies, all morning."

Fiyero felt a pang of sympathy for Nessa, trapped with Morrible for a roommate. "I just wanted a word to see if she might know where El-Miss Thropp might have gone."

As she studied him, he tried to come up with any other way to sneak in to see Nessa, but if Morrible had been keeping tabs on her all morning, he couldn't think of a realistic solution. "Miss Nessarose, you have a visitor." She turned back to Fiyero. "I'm afraid she can't talk long. She has been very weak this morning, and you mustn't wear her out."

"Of course, ma'am. Thank you."

Nessa wheeled to the door. "Fiyero? What are you doing here?"

Morrible hadn't been exaggerating. Nessa looked terrible. Her long dark hair hung limp, and her shoulders slumped as if they held the weight of the world.

"Hey, Nessa. Sorry to bother you like this."

"It's no bother." But she didn't attempt to smile. "What do you need?"

He thought of easing into it, but her depressed expression made him want to escape as soon as possible. "It's Elphaba. She's been missing all morning. No one seems to know where she went."

"Oh." He'd have expected a little more concern. "She's probably in the library or something."

Why did everyone think he was such an idiot that he'd not check the clearly obvious first choice? He fought himself into an even expression. "She's not. I already checked."

"Did you check her room?"

"Nessa, come on. Of course I checked her room."

The frail girl's shrug looked like it might topple her over. "No idea."

He wanted to shake her into some spark of caring. "Seriously? You're not even going to try to help me?"

"No need to be rude." Nessa rolled back, and the door inched toward him. "Look, I haven't heard from Elphaba, but I'm sure she's fine, wherever she is. You needn't worry."

He caught the door before it closed. "Nessa, I really need to talk to her. It's important."

She looked at him for a long minute. "What do you want? I don't know where she is."

"But surely you have some insight into where she might go. You're her sister."

"None. Sorry."

Fiyero stepped out of the door with a sharp breath. "Thanks for your help." He wanted to shake her, but Nessa didn't seem to care about anything right now. Oz, that was absolutely infuriating.

Desperate, he decided to try the library again. After all, that's where the universe expected her. But of course, no luck. After his third sweep of the library, the matron at the front desk eyed him as if considering expelling him. He sighed, admitting defeat. Unless she was hiding in the books themselves, she wasn't here.

"Hey." Tavon and Aeric fell in step beside him. The former nodded back toward the large building. "What're you doing at the library?"

As much as he didn't want to talk to either, he put it aside to ask, "Have you seen Elphaba?"

"I'm pretty sure I can find her," Aeric offered with a wicked grin, "…in my bed."

If Tavon hadn't caught his fist, Fiyero would have punched him. His eyes threatened murder, and the thick boy actually stepped back. "Lurline, just a joke. What the hell is your problem anyway?"

Tavon recovered first. "He can't find Elphaba," he said, as if that explained everything. "Need some help looking?"

Fiyero fought a frustrated sigh. "No thanks." They were the last help he needed. He ran a hand through his rumpled hair. "But if you see her…"

"Yeah."

He had to fight back a thought of how Tavon probably would see her, as he picked up Galinda for a date tonight. Or worse, after. But he forced that image out of his mind.

The weekend passed, and though he looked everywhere he could imagine she might have gone, he had no leads. Nessa and Galinda both refused to answer him any more, and even Boq had given him a pitying look. He'd waited outside Crage Hall for her so long, campus security actually interrogated him and sent him away. Where could she be? She might as well have vanished in thin air.

Monday found him outside her first class. She wouldn't miss class, even if she had been abducted. She'd fight her way free and hijack a train if she had to, just to make it to class. But time came and went. He doubled back to check the room number when he saw a flash of green.

He raced around the corner and there she was, plain as day. He blinked, half-afraid he imagined her. She shifted her bag on her shoulder, somehow both intimidating and endearing at once in the way that only she could manage. He called out at the top of his lungs, "Elphaba! Hey, wait!" Her hair swung over her shoulder as she looked back, eyes wide, and then slipped into the corridor on the right.

He stopped in shock and felt a person slam into his back. "Sorry," he muttered, edging out of traffic. She had seen him; he knew she had. Why had she turned?

She was avoiding him. He felt like Liam, some pathetic rejected suitor who didn't realize he was unwanted. He'd known, of course, at least in some part of him, that she hadn't been missing by accident. But the full reality of seeing her dodge him hit him like a sledgehammer.

He should have expected this. It was so like Elphaba to avoid the issue, and by association, him. He felt a twinge of annoyance that she wouldn't even give him the opportunity to defend himself.

So this was rejection. Real rejection, not the usual, "I can't, I'm joining the mauntery in the morning…alright, just don't tell anyone." Rejection sucked.

Well, he wasn't just some guy. He was a prince, famous and beloved, and he wasn't going to be shunted away as if he didn't even exist.


	9. Clean My Wounds

AN:No excuses, I should have updated this a long time ago. Thanks to those of you who PMed, especially Holly Bush for the motivation. Thanks for reading and not giving up on this story.

* * *

><p>This was ridiculous. Fiyero slipped into the class and scanned the front rows for Elphaba. Like it or not, she was going to talk to him. He dropped into the seat beside her, oblivious to her surprised glare.<p>

"What're you doing here?" she hissed, eyes on the professor. "You're not even in this class."

"You're avoiding me."

She shot him a look. "Get out."

"We need to talk."

"This is a class!" Students nearby turned to look at her, and she lowered her voice back to a whisper, "Go away. We'll talk later."

He crossed his arms. "No, we won't. You think I can't tell you're going to be stubborn?"

"What do you want?"

He uncrossed his arms to take her hand, heedless of her wince. "Come back to lessons."

She rolled her eyes and pointedly stared at the professor, copying a line of notes.

"Why are you so mad at me?"

She leaned her head back as if praying for deliverance. "I'm not. Now, I need to pay attention, so…"

"Elphaba, come on. Talk to me."

His sincerity pushed through to her, or it might have been the edge of desperation. She drew a heavy breath. "I really don't want to talk about this here."

"Then let's go."

"I can't. Oz, why are you so dense? I know you skip class, but I actually care about my education."

He fought the urge to grab her hand again. "I'm not leaving you alone until you talk to me."

"I'll talk to you later."

"You've been avoiding me for days."

"I've just been busy." But her wandering eyes shouted liar.

"Avoiding."

"No, I've-"

"Avoiding." She opened her mouth, and he pre-empted her. "_Avoiding_. Don't lie to me."

"Ugh, why are you so insufferable?" There was steel in her whisper as her cheeks darkened. "Fine. I've been avoiding you. Happy?"

He swallowed back a retort in favor of a soft, "Why?" which earned him a pointed look.

"Fiyero, you know why."

His eyes dropped, and he forced a blank face so his realization wouldn't show. She didn't want him. He'd pushed her too fast and pushed her away. Disappointment welled in him, but he set it aside. Priorities. "Still. All…that aside. We need to get back to training."

Her pencil had become fascinating, for both of them. "I don't know. I don't think that would be a good idea." The soft sadness in her voice tore at his heart.

"Elphaba-"

"I don't think we should-"

"Listen." He grabbed her wrist, shocking her enough to draw her eyes. "Trust me, I get it. I'm sorry, and I promise I will do my best to keep my hands to myself." He let go to prove his point, but compensated by leaning forward. "But you shouldn't let that get in the way of your progress. You wouldn't quit any other classes just because you dislike the teacher."

Her eyes flicked to the professor dully lecturing the class. "You're not a teacher."

"Tutor then. Come on, you know I've helped."

For a moment he thought she'd deny it to be spiteful, but then her eyes dropped to the desk. "And if I don't need your help?"

"You do."

She scowled. "Fine, if I don't want your help? Oz, why do you care anyway?"

"Elphaba." He wanted to tell her she knew why, but that was the source of the whole disagreement. "I just…do."

Her silence was deafening, but he waited her out. "I'll think about it."

"Okay. I'll be at the courts tomorrow morning. Same time."

She nodded. "Okay, fine. Get out." He did, before she changed her mind.

* * *

><p>Fiyero fired another shot at the hoop, eyes glazed even as the net swung. He chased the ball down and returned to the line.<p>

She wasn't coming.

He knew that, and yet, he couldn't fight the hope and swallowing disappointment when each basket fell unwitnessed. The next one bounced off the rim and spun off toward the weeds.

"You've got to break your wrist." He whirled at the voice. "And relax, but think, but clear your head."

A broad smile broke out as Elphaba sauntered closer. "You came."

Her smirk faltered, and her left hand crossed to her right elbow. "So it would seem."

He restrained the strong urge to crush her to him and redirected his energy into swiping back his hair. "So…"

She pressed her lips in a tense smile, and he subconsciously moved the ball between them.

"What did you want to start with?"

"You're the coach. You tell me."

The banter fell short, though, when neither of them could meet the other's eyes. "Already run today?"

"Five miles this morning." Her chin bucked up, and he fought a swell of pride. She'd kept up the workouts. She hadn't totally given up on him.

"Good." He hadn't meant for the warmth in his voice to be so obvious, but it melted some ice from her rigid posture. "Time?"

"Thirty-one."

"Really?" He lifted his eyebrow. A new best for her, if he wasn't mistaken.

She shifted her weight with uneasy tension. "I had some motivation."

Pissed at him, no doubt. He'd have to remember that if she needed it. He arranged a teasing grin. "Oh? Liam chasing you?" She shot him a look, but at least her eyes finally met his.

"We should do weights. I haven't been able to since…without a spotter."

"Yeah, okay." The image of her lying on the bench below him sprung to mind, and he swallowed. "Want to go biking first? It's a nice day, get some fresh air."

"Fresh air's overrated."

"Clearly you haven't been in the weight room. It doesn't smell like books, that's for sure."

She rolled her eyes. "You know, I do leave the library every now and then."

He sent her a sideways smile. "For a little fresh air?"

She shoved his shoulder, and just like that the spell between them fractured. He propped the ball against his hip. "Think you can show me the rowing machine?"

"Sure. What do you need it for?"

"It's one of the optionals. That, gymnastics, football or wrestling."

He swallowed the retort on the tip of his tongue at the idea of teaching her to wrestle. "Don't most girls pick gymnastics?"

"Shall I wear pink ribbons, too, or just my dolls?"

He kept his thoughts to himself. "Rowing, it is. But to warn you, it's murder on the lower back."

"I'll stretch."

They head to the athletic building and returned his ball to the front desk. "Weight room free?"

"Down the hall." The clerk shot Elphaba a look. "She your only spotter?"

"I'm hers."

"Oh," he dropped his eyes back to his log, "workout gym's open till six. It's got all the aerobic machines."

Elphaba bristled, but Fiyero intervened before she could lash back, "Thanks. Can we get a key?"

"No key for the gym if you've got a student ID."

Fiyero held out his hand. "But the weight room does."

The clerk huffed an aggrieved sigh. "Bring it back when you're done," clearly implying that it would be soon.

"Thanks." He hooked an arm around Elphaba's elbow and pulled her after him before she could lash into the beefy chauvinist. "Come on. Save it for the weights."

The room was dim, even with the lights all on, and the familiar scent of sweat and testosterone wafted from the dingy carpet. He peeked at Elphaba's face for her reaction. "What?"

"Everything you pictured?"

"Sure." She swung her shoulders out and stretched her arms like he'd taught her. "A cave for those cavemen. I see why they need a lock; it's so alluring."

"Hey, I happen to enjoy coming here." She tossed him a smirk over her shoulder as she moved on to her back and legs. "Are you calling me a caveman?"

"Maybe?"

He flashed a grin and reached to haul her over his shoulder in true caveman style before he caught himself. Joke or not, he had to be more careful. "What muscle groups are we working on? Or did you just want the rowing machine? Because that actually is in the workout gym."

She narrowed her eyes. "Weights are fine."

He bit his tongue and gathered a few free weights. "Arms first?" He demonstrated a bicep curl. "Try a few."

"These aren't so hard." She swung the weight up and back with ease, but he shook his head.

"Too much momentum. Go slower so you work the muscle instead." She improved her pace, and he nodded. "Better. Three sets of ten, each side." He headed back to the weight tree with her eyes following him each step. "Might as well get in a workout in myself."

He forced himself not to choose heavier weights for her benefit. He had to focus on spotting her in case she needed him. Sets flew by, and he moved them on to triceps.

She lay back on the bench, and he checked her neck support. "Palms up," he instructed, passing the weight. Remember slow."

She struggled through a couple reps. "Okay, this is a little harder."

"Most people don't spend enough time on their triceps. Eight more." She dipped the weight again a little faster than he liked. "Elbows in, El. Focus on your elbows each time up."

She lifted it with far better form. "Like that?"

"Yeah. Seven." He counted her down, and took the weight. "My turn." They traded places while he instructed, "Keep your hand," he eyed her arm "...hands six inches from the weight in case so I don't bash my head in and lose the little brains I've got. They call these Skull Crushers."

"Well, thanks for telling me that after I did them."

"Sure thing." He lowered weight with a huff. "Watch my elbows."

She made a face. "Of course you would make it look easy. Another set?"

He sat up. "Nah. We'll get to arms again with pull-ups anyway." He led her to the barbell. "Lay down and lift this." He watched as she did so, trying to estimate what weight for her to lift.

"What's this?"

"Bench press – chest mostly." He ignored her sharp look to load the weights, set her wrists and lift it into position for her.

"Okay, deep breath and push straight up." She struggled a little, but managed. "Now down and back up all in one motion. Good. How you feeling?"

"Fine," she managed through clenched teeth.

"Keep breathing." Her arms wavered, and he slipped a cautious hand under the bar. "Couple more….and up." He guided the bar to its rack, and she sat up to stretch.

"Oz, that hurts."

"Well, you probably don't have much muscle development on your chest yet." Another dirty look, and he rolled his eyes. "I said muscle." He racked the weights and moved on.

"Oh, you're not doing that one?"

"I need a spotter." She waved toward herself. "Who could actually lift the bar if it started choking me."

"Fair enough."

He guided her through back extensions next, pleased with how she picked it up, and then a few shoulder presses to see where she'd need work. He led her to the pull up bar, part of the final for sure. She eyed it hesitantly as he stood behind her. "Ready?"

"Um…."

He took a step toward her, tentative hands finding her waist to lift her up. "Palms toward you - grab the bar."

She hung there, anxiety stamped all over her face. "I don't think I can do one of these."

"You can. Breathe at the bottom. Focus on the bar. I'll help if you need me." She pulled hard, muscles on her arms taut in the struggle to lift herself. Her lower lip sucked into her mouth, arms shaking. She'd made it halfway up, but he could tell she wouldn't make a full set. He looped an arm around her thighs, and she jerked, startled enough her grip faltered.

"What're you doing?"

"Helping. Pull yourself up."

"Look, it's not like you can help me at the final like this. Don't I have to learn it myself?"

"This is how. Now pull yourself up."

"But-"

"Elphaba," he barked, and shocked, she blinked down at him. "Pull. Yourself. Up."

She nodded and pulled hard. He supported her weight until she reached the top.

"Good, now slow on the way down, and don't rest at the bottom; push through and up." Another nod, and she started the descent. With each set, he released more of her weight until by the fourth one, he only had an arm set for psychological help. "Shoulders back. You'll pull a muscle." She straightened. "Good. Keep going."

"No count?"

"Not yet. Next time we do these."

"We're doing them again?"

He let out a sigh. "No, not tonight. Last three."

"Three?" She complained, but she hauled herself up.

"Two now. Come on." She reached the bar again, and he let go for the final rep. "Okay, on your own, one rep." He knew she'd done several without him, but he needed her to get past the mental block herself. Sure enough, she struggled to finish.

"I can't."

"You can. Push, El. Come on, you can do anything."

"You're overly," she grunted out, pausing to hiss a strangled breath, "optimistic. I…"

"Lift." He willed her up, frustrated that he couldn't help. "Come on, a little farther."

Her weary arms shook, but with a final quivering pull, she reached at least a half-chin up.

"Yes. That's my girl." He let out a quick breath and returned his arms to her waist. "Let go. I got you."

She pried her fingers from the bar with a heavy sigh, dropping her arms to his shoulders as he lowered her to the ground. Exhausted, she let her forehead fall against his clavicle. His breath caught in his throat. Against every atom of his being, he released her and stepped back.

"You did great."

She blinked at his guarded tone, and a flush tinted her already reddened face. "Thanks," she let out in a whoosh of air, moving sweaty strands of hair back from her face. "What's next? The rack?"

"That's all for today." He used pouring her water as an excuse to avoid her eyes. "Unless you still want to use the rower."

She groaned. "My arms are killing me."

He flashed a commiserating smile. "Wait till morning." The key rested by the weights, and he collected it on his way to the door.

"That's it? No leg exercises?"

"Don't want to over-train." And he didn't want to risk mauling her and scaring her away for good. "We can do those tomorrow if you want, plus the rower."

She made a face, and he laughed.

"Or the day after. You won't be sore forever."

She rotated her stiff arms with a grimace. "I disagree."

"It's just a pull up," his tease was too gentle, and he was careful not to knock against like he would have before.

"Hey, I didn't see you doing any," she tossed back. Then as if she realized her words, she stopped and gazed pointedly at the bar, hand on hip. "Aren't you supposed to show me proper form?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You really want me to?" She swiveled her head with fake sass. "For the record, I tried to leave."

He jumped up to grab the bar and channeled his tension into fast, controlled dips. Exercise felt good for his frustrated system, and he couldn't help overdoing it. "This good enough?" He set a hand on his shirt, but stopped himself from removing it. "Can you see the muscles okay?"

"Arrogant."

"You asked." He tossed out a cheeky grin, evening out with his other arm.

"Doesn't mean you're not arrogant."

"Doesn't mean you're not impressed." He dropped to the ground, far cockier now than he should be.

"Come on, coach." She led him toward the door with a swing in her hips. "Time to get you out of these fumes before you get _really_ delusional."


	10. My Mind's Gone Loose

"Okay, try again. Eyes on the ball." Fiyero watched Elphaba draw a hand back, and lean into her shot. "Follow through." Her fist connected, and the ball sailed toward him. He passed it back. "Good. Ready to try overhand?"

"If I must."

He tossed the ball at her face. "Grouch."

"Me? I'm not the one who threw a ball at your face."

He grinned. "But wouldn't you like to?"

She ignored him to shake out her shoulders. It had been a long hour already, learning to pass and set. Her arms would be sore tomorrow to judge by the way she kept rubbing them. "Alright, coach. Lead on."

"Step back," he demonstrated as he lectured, "and lift up. Toss and draw, then step and swing." The ball smacked into the middle of the opposite end of the court. "It's not as difficult as it seems. Your coordination's gotten a lot better. Don't give me that face; you can do it."

She took the ball with lip curled in an impressively disgruntled frown. She pulled her right arm back, and flung the ball up. Her serve connected with the right edge of the ball, spinning it off toward the net.

"Toss straight. Relaxed and steady." She shot him a look, and he sighed, "Sorry, I forgot."

"Nope. Deal's a deal."

He passed her a new ball. "I said steady."

"You know what you said." He found a sudden interest in gathering the neglected balls on the other end of the court. "Fiyero," she warned, and he dumped the balls back in their pen.

"Can't I just do push-ups or something instead?"

She held up both hands. "Hey, I offered you an alternative."

"I'm not shaving my head."

She shrugged as if to indicate her inability to help him. He absorbed her predatory smile with affectionate reluctance. Part of him wondered if he'd slipped on purpose to cheer her up.

"Fine. But I still say 'relax' is a perfectly valid instruction." He let out a heavy breath, preparing himself, but he'd lost her attention. His gaze swung to follow hers.

"Sorry to interrupt." Galinda took a prim step forward. What was she doing here?

"No, go ahead." He retreated to his water bottle. "We could probably use a break, anyway."

It took him a moment to realize she was still looking at him. He closed the cap on his water, and she took another hesitant step toward him. "It's Elphie's birthday Friday."

"Galinda!" Elphaba grabbed her roommate's arm, but the blonde yanked free.

"I'm throwing her a party. Yes, I am, don't even start." Elphaba huffed. "Despite our history, I think it's important to her that you're there."

Said birthday girl covered her face with a groan. "Please, Oz, kill me now."

Galinda drew herself up to every inch of her goodliest, most martyr-worthy height. "So I'd like to invite you."

He swiped a hair through his hair. "Yeah, okay. I'll be there." Not that either girl wanted him there, it seemed.

Galinda nodded and gave him the details as he studiously avoided the look of betrayal Elphaba had aimed at him. "I'll let you get back to practice." She retreated, and Fiyero turned to his pupil.

"You want to keep going or quit for the day. We can finish up tomorrow if you'd rather."

"I doubt it," she moped. "Galinda will drag me all over Shiz to play dress up for this damned thing." She handed him the ball. "Honestly, you don't have to go. I'll probably sneak out myself."

"Yeah, right." He popped the ball up and spiked it toward the net. "And have Galinda drag you back by your toenails?"

"Ugh, why does she have to be like this?" She copied his motion, but hit too low. "It's my birthday. Can't I ignore it if I want to?"

He turned her forearm as she prepped for another try. "You really shouldn't, though. Higher, and snap the wrist."

But she'd stopped and turned to face him. "Why not? I hate parties. And people. And balloons. And basically everything involved."

He dropped his eyes. "It's your birthday. You should celebrate it with the people who care about you." She seemed taken aback. He set the ball for her, and she took the hint to try another spike. This hit the top edge of the net, but scraped past. "There's cake. You don't hate that."

"I guess." Her next spike skimmed over the net and smashed into the court with a satisfying thwack. "It better not be pink."

He laughed and jogged after the balls. "Not a strawberry fan?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, and together they wrangled the balls back in the cage. He grabbed both their bags as she downed half her water bottle. She stowed it in the duffel and took it from him at the gym door. "For the record, you don't have to come."

"You don't want me to?"

She worried her shoulder strap. "No, I do. But you don't have to. If you don't want to deal with...everything. Galinda and all."

"You want me there, I'm there."

The corner of her mouth twitched at his firm, stolid answer, but still she added, "I know things aren't the greatest between you two. You don't have to feel obligated. Really." She punctuated his pardon with a heartbreakingly sincere expression, and he rolled his eyes. As if he'd miss her birthday.

"I'll see you at seven. And don't even try bailing, or I'll drag you back myself."

* * *

><p>"This is hopeless."<p>

"What is this?" Avaric held up a pair of lacy panties with a wolfish grin. "Think we can get a salesgirl over here to model them?"

Fiyero snatched the lingerie and threw it back on the pile. "Cut it out. You're supposed to be helping."

"I am. Aren't you trying to get in the Artichoke's underwear?" He grabbed another pair and made them dance for Fiyero.

He punched his friend in the shoulder. "Some respect. And I can't get her something like that. It'll freak her out worse than before."

"So get her nothing." Avaric abandoned the underwear to trail an attractive redhead past the robes. "Nothing says casual like nothing."

"Casual, Av. Not a jackass."

But he was already next to the girl with his most charming expression plastered on his face. "You should get it. That green brings out your eyes."

She turned to him in surprise. "Sorry, who are you?"

"Avaric," he extended a hand. He cocked his head to the side. "Maybe you could help us. You seem to have great taste." She smiled awkwardly at his praise. "My friend and I were trying to find a birthday present for his girlfriend."

"Not my girlfriend," Fiyero supplied.

Avaric continued as if uninterrupted, "Now, my friend here wanted to get her underwear."

"Nope. Didn't want underwear."

"I say that's too forward for their first month. What do you think?" He flashed a falsely sensitive smile, which Redhead took hook, line and sinker.

"Oh, definitely," she agreed with a sideways frown toward Fiyero.

With wide eyes, Avaric pretended to realize, "Hey, what about a sweater?"

Fiyero made a face. "What am I, her grandmother at Lurlinemas?"

His friend caught the sweater between his fingers. "This is really soft."

"It's high-thread count wool." Avaric leaned in with feigned interest. "I heard they only use sweet-tempered Sheep from Old Pastoria."

"Oh? Wow."

"Yep, that would definitely help impress the animal rights activist," Fiyero scoffed. He fingered a scarf. It was sinfully soft. Maybe if he didn't tell her…

"Oh, I know!" The others had degenerated into a whispered conversation that couldn't be more than two steps from a date. He settled in to wait it out. Cosmetics were out, as were perfumes or jewelry. All his fallback gifts.

Avaric wrapped things up and dismissed Redhead with a wink and a promise to call. She rounded the corner, and he dropped the sappy smile. "So, booze?"

"It's only three. What do I get Elphaba?"

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Get her a book or something."

Fiyero led them out of the clothing store. "Everybody's going to get her that. I want mine to be special."

Avaric's eyes rolled back in his head. "Make up your mind. Do you want casual or special?" He sidestepped a four-year-old with a teetering ice cream cone. "Or are you just trying to torture me? I bet it's not even her birthday."

"What about poppies? They're her favorite flower."

"Do you know her favorite tampon brand, too? Ew, don't tell me." He stopped to grab a couple cups of coffee to go from a vendor. "Besides, flowers are worse than underwear. Flowers say you want to be all romantic and emotional and," he mimed throwing up. "Underwear just says you want to get her naked."

"Neither one an option," Fiyero clarified in case his friend hadn't caught that already. He took a long drink of coffee. "So what does that leave?"

Avaric shrugged.

"What's thoughtful, but not personal? And not too expensive, or she'd refuse to accept it."

"Kitty."

Fiyero shot him a look. "A pet? That's the anti-casual."

"No, the brunette that hit me with the stapler when I called her Karen. Quick. In here."

"Do I want to ask when you called her Karen?" he asked resignedly, but he followed him into the candy shop. "Or rather, what you were doing?"

"Who I was doing?" Avaric smirked. "Yeah. Hey, I remember her name now, though. Maybe she'd go for round two…"

He started back toward the door, but Fiyero caught his elbow to haul him forward. "What about chocolates?" He nodded toward the large chocolate-drizzled strawberries lounging in the glass display case. "Those look great."

"I don't know. Women get weird about chocolate sometimes. One minute, you're their hero because they love it. Then they accuse you of trying to get them fat."

Knowing his friend, Avaric had probably called the girl in question a pig or something. He settled for, "Not Elphaba."

"Your funeral. Besides, aren't those supposed to be aphrodisiacs?"

"I don't think so." He thought about it. "Better not risk it."

Avaric checked for Kitty and led them back on the sidewalk. They walked past three more stores before he saw the perfect present in a crowded store window. He pointed it out to his friend. "That? What, is your whole country broke now?"

"It's the thought that counts, not the price."

"Oh, okay, Mom. Why don't you just make her some macaroni art and a friendship bracelet then?"

"Shut up. I'm getting it." The pair opened the shop door to the tinkling of a bell.

"Fine. But just to be safe, why don't you get a better, I mean, backup present. In case she doesn't like it." Not the worst of ideas.

"Like?"

"You know my vote."

"Book?" Fiyero asked with a dry tone.

"Or panties," Avaric grinned. "Better yet, all three. So you want her mind, body and pity."

"Why do I put up with you?"

"Cause I'm awesome."

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed my last chapter. I really appreciate that you didn't give up on me. I'm determined to stick to once-a-week chapters, so they might be closer to this length than the last. Thanks again for reading, and please let me know what you think.<p> 


	11. It's My Party

Knocks sounded on the door in rapid succession. "Come on, lover boy. Time to get some cake. I hope it's not made out of spinach."

Fiyero set down his comb and let Avaric in. He went back to the mirror. "What're you doing here?"

"Like I'd miss Veggie Birthday Day."

He fussed with his collar. "Do you think this looks too-"

"Prissy? Stupid? Like a blind person dressed you? Totally."

He shot him a look. "Overdressed. But thanks for the confidence." He fidgeted with the buttons of his dress shirt.

"Lurline, you're such a girl now." Avaric crossed to untuck the shirt and ruffle his friend's hair with a trained eye. "What is it about her that you're so off your game?" Fiyero picked up his present on the way to the door. "It's embarrassing. I may have to revoke your wingman privileges."

"I'll try to survive." They headed down the stairs. "If you're coming, you've got to promise to behave. I mean it. No nicknames. No insults. No come-ons. She's important to me."

"Couldn't have guessed, what with how you talk about her incessantly." Avaric grabbed for the box, and Fiyero shifted it out of his reach. "What'd you decide?"

"Both. I see you got her nothing, so I guess that evens out."

Avaric shrugged one shoulder. "She's your fantasy girl, not mine. Personally, I don't see what you see in her. Sure, she's got a nice as-ow!" He rubbed his ear. "Fine! I'll keep my mouth shut in front of your delicate little princess."

"You don't have to come."

"Did you not see yourself in front of the mirror? Someone clearly needs to save you from yourself."

He rapped on the door, and Galinda opened it. "You had to bring Avaric, too? Perfect." She stepped aside to go to her roommate. "It's Fiyero."

Elphaba turned, all eyes and hair and gorgeous black silk. She tucked the hair behind her ears and took a clunky step forward. "Hey."

He forced himself not to drool. "You look nice."

"Oh, thanks." She hid her eyes on the glittering beads that swept a path across her flared skirt. "It's all Galinda."

How he longed to tip up that chin and assure her that it wasn't. Instead he shuffled toward her desk. "Boq."

The munchkin lifted an eyebrow. "No question this time, huh?"

"Looks like."

Avaric shed his coat and dumped it on the vanity. "So, we drinking here or taking this party on the road?"

"Not that kind of party, Av." From the cold tone and pose of her hip, Galinda still hadn't forgiven his friend for that 'Prissy Bottle Blonde' comment after their breakup.

"So why did you bring Avaric?" Elphaba leaned in to ask. Fiyero showed remarkable restraint not looping an arm around the tiny waist so accentuated by that dress.

"Bring?" He faked surprise. "He followed me like a stray. I was trying to find the little guy a home."

She swallowed a smile. "You do know he's going to give Galinda a heart attack."

They watched the blonde glowering at whatever rude, ungoodly thing Avaric had said now. Fiyero tilted his head to the side. "You know, I'm a little surprised she didn't go for him instead of Tavon. That whole 'opposites attract' thing."

Elphaba dropped her eyes back to her beads. They fell silent for a tense moment. He cleared his throat. "Wouldn't that be one terrifying match though?"

She let out a small smile. "Can you imagine?"

"Please, Lurline, don't make me!" He made a visual loop of the room and asked, "Speaking of, where's Tavon?"

"I haven't seen him in a while, actually."

So either she was sparing his feelings, or Galinda had kept her beau away for fear of what Fiyero would say. It hurt that she thought so little of him as to ruin Elphaba's birthday just for the satisfaction of seeing his traitorous ex-friend off-balance.

A knock at the door drew Galinda from her argument to answer it, and Elphaba jumped up to help her sister wheel in. Nessarose patted her hand. "Happy Birthday, Fabala." Her eyes crossed the room to Boq in the corner, and the temperature dropped several degrees. "What is he doing here?"

"Boq's my friend, Nessa."

Nessa scowled. "So you're choosing his side?"

"No, we're all choosing Elphie's side," Galinda's voice was gentle, but firm. "Can I take that for you?"

"I apologize." Nessa handed over the plain brown parcel. "I'll try to be more charitable."

Boq opened his mouth, only to press it back shut at a glare from Galinda. Fiyero sent him a sympathetic look. He'd been on the wrong end of those glares one too many times.

"So when do I get cake?" Avaric broke the tension. "I assume there's no punch to spike."

Boq steered Avaric into a surprisingly competent discussion of local sports while Elphaba helped her sister get comfortable. Fiyero picked up Nessa's shawl and brought it to Galinda by the closet. "Oh, thanks."

"Need any help?"

She batted a perky smile to her face and shook her head. "Nope. Everything's peachy."

He began hanging coats automatically, channeling the months they'd spent together. "I'm surprised you didn't call in reinforcements." She tilted her head in confusion. "Aren't you seeing someone?"

Her face paled. "What're you talking about?"

"It's okay. You don't have to pretend. I already know." He fought to keep his voice even. "So where _is_ Tavon?"

"You, what, Tavon?"

Now it was starting to get insulting. "Yes, Galinda. I'm not an idiot."

She narrowed her eyes and stepped close to hiss, "Are you kidding me right now? Do you not see what I'm already trying to deal with? If you ruin this party, Elphie or not, I will boil you in nail polish. It's bad enough you brought Avaric. Do you really hate me enough to-"

Knock, knock.

She abandoned him to resume her hostess duties without the slightest sign that she'd been mid-threat. Elphaba met his eyes across the room. Who would that be? Everyone she could remotely consider a friend was already there.

"Sorry I'm late." Liam grinned over a huge bouquet of red roses. "Where's the birthday girl?"

Elphaba tried to subtly duck behind her sister's wheelchair. Fiyero took a step toward her subconsciously, though what he planned to do, he couldn't say.

"Who're you?" Avaric blurted out, sizing up the floral monstrosity. "A flower salesman?"

"Everyone, this is Elphie's friend Liam." Galinda started to introduce him around when she caught the desperate look in her roommate's eye. "Um, Boq, can you help Liam with his lovely flowers?"

The munchkin dutifully stepped up, and the blonde slipped over to Elphaba. "What is he doing here?" she whispered. "Tell me you didn't invite him."

"I ran into him yesterday, outside your class. I assumed…he's not your friend?"

"Why would you think that? Am I particularly known for having friends? For Oz sake."

She took a step back. "He said he knew you. Asked about your tests. He said you were friends."

Elphaba rubbed a nervous hand over her bare arms. "This is a disaster."

"But, he seems so nice. I don't understand," she took in her roommate's clear displeasure and sighed. "Well, I can't disinvite him. It would be rude. Can't you just make nice?"

"Oh, like you are with Avaric?"

Galinda crossed her arms. "You don't like him either. I don't see why Fiyero had to bring him."

"But he did. And he's been …tolerable." Elphaba's eyes flicked to Fiyero. "I'm sure he had a good reason."

Boq had reached the limit of his abilities at interference, and Liam presented Elphaba a single rose with an ostentatious flourish. "Milady. You look absolutely stunning."

She took it reluctantly, and Fiyero stepped behind her, a hand on the small of her back. "Doesn't she, though?"

Liam turned to him with raised eyebrows. "Oh, hello again. I didn't realize you were here." He offered a handshake, which Fiyero returned with a firm grip. "I had assumed, well, since you two broke up."

"Broke up?" Galinda asked. "What is he talking about?" She turned to Elphaba with a cautious look.

Fiyero felt a flush creep up his neck. Nessa filled the silence with, "You two were dating?"

"No," she confessed, looking as guilty as sin, so he took the lead.

"Liam, we've been training together, nothing else. I'm afraid you were mistaken." Though the creepiness of him having noticed their tiff chilled him. He made a split-second decision. "She's with Avaric."

"Avaric?" A roomful of eyes swung to his friend propped over by the bookcase. Except for Elphaba's, which zeroed in on Fiyero's face. He willed her to go with it until they could get rid of Liam. He didn't want that creep to get his grubby paws anywhere close to her.

His friend stood and cleared his throat. "Well, um, I guess the cat's out of the bag, right, honey?" He crossed the room to drape his arm around her.

"You're dating Avaric?" Galinda could not look more shocked. "That's why he's here?"

"Yep." She bit out. "Surprise."

"I can see why you wouldn't want people to know that."

Nessa's face screamed disapproval. "Avaric? The single most degrading philanderer at Shiz. What could you possibly see in him?"

Said philanderer flopped back on Elphaba's bed. "Well, ours is more of a physical relationship."

"Oh, Unnamed God, please tell me you haven't, done, that," she managed to get out, and Elphaba glared at Fiyero so he knew this was all his fault.

Avaric sat up to grin, and Elphaba shoved him back without so much as a glance backward. "No, Nessa, of course not."

"They'll never believe you, honeybunch."

Fiyero took that as his cue to drag Avaric away in the pretense of bringing the presents. "Stop torturing her. I know you enjoy inflicting misery, but it's her birthday. What's the matter with you?"

"You're the one that said she was pretend-dating me."

"Yes," Fiyero paused to gather an armful of bright boxes and bows, "because ruining Galinda's party with my confession of deep feelings for my ex-girlfriend's roommate wouldn't be a total suicide mission at all."

Avaric collected the last few parcels and grinned. "Aw, you said deep feelings. That's it, buttercup. You're ready for your first training bra."

"Just be nice. Fake it."

They deposited the presents in front of Elphaba, all but Liam's bouquet. Galinda cooed and fussed and arranged it all while the rest formed a circle around Elphaba, who could not possibly have looked more uncomfortable. She eyed the colorful parcels like grenades.

"Start with mine," Galinda beamed. She handed over a box that looked like a rainbow had vomited ribbons on it. "Open it! Open it!" Elphaba started to untangle the bows, but the blonde rolled her eyes. "Rip it. It's more fun."

She did as directed to reveal a white lace camisole, soft burgundy sweater and matching skirt. Galinda hugged her roommate with abandon. "Promise you'll wear it at least once." She rummaged under the skirt. "You missed this."

Now Elphaba's eye lit up at the leather-bound volume. "My favorite author. Oh, Galinda, this is too much."

She waved her off with another hug. "Not for my Elphie."

"Why did we start with yours again?" Boq groused amicably. "Now ours will look meager in comparison." He presented a green striped box, which soon revealed several serious texts that Fiyero couldn't imagine as a present for any but Elphaba. He shot Avaric a gloating look. Two down, and what a shock, both with books.

Nessa's held a study of the ancient texts of the Unnamed God in multiple languages. Elphaba accepted it with a thin smile, pretty gracious considering her firm position on the existence of such a deity.

"Mine next." Liam's box was large. Fiyero fought an ugly thought that the little weasel had probably stuffed it with diamonds and chocolate. But as she opened it, he could see her eyes light up. "A first edition Ovidante? How did you get this?"

"I have my connections."

She glossed over his sly smirk with eyes trained on the cover. "This is…wow, thank you, Liam. Really. You shouldn't have."

"I'm glad you like it." Liam leaned toward her, a little too close for Fiyero's comfort.

"I guess that leaves mine." Not that he could compete with a first edition whatever she'd said. He felt the collective eyes on them as he handed her the present. Without bows to contend with, Elphaba fingered the paper along the seam rather than ripping it.

He watched her face as she lifted the lid. Her lips pressed together as her lashes fluttered. "It's…beautiful," she breathed, lifting out the scarf he'd wrapped around his real present.

"It's an Vinkun scarf," he supplied. "Not warm, but pretty."

"Pretty? It's exquisite." She unfolded the silk to reveal red poppies on a green background bordered with blue diamonds. She couldn't know the significance of the diamonds tattooed over his chest, but she could recognize the pairing, no doubt.

Nestled in the scarf was the antique wooden pencil case from the shop window. The sides and edges held carvings of various sports, soccer balls and baseball bats and bowling pins and the like. He'd had the wood grain restored as well as her name engraved on the top. Inside a toy gold medal inscribed as MVP Thropp. Cheap, perhaps, but he hoped she'd appreciate the sentiment.

She swallowed hard. "Thank you."

He nodded back.

Galinda broke the moment to ask, "So where's your gift, Avaric?"

The roomful of guests swung to look at him, clearly empty-handed at his supposed girlfriend's birthday party.

"Oh, I'll give her my present later tonight," he said with a wink. "So cake?"

Galinda brushed off his roguish grin with a clipped, "After dinner."

"We're having dinner here?"

"No," she forced patience. "We have reservations at Chez Marque downtown. Then maybe we could go dancing," she absorbed her roommate's frown. "Or bowling?"

Fiyero held up both hands. "No way. I'm off the clock." Elphaba half-shoved his shoulder, and he handed her the new sweater. "It looks great with that dress."

"Because Galinda bought them both."

Dinner turned out to be as awkward as imaginable. Between Nessa glaring at Boq, Liam testing a very unconvincing relationship between Avaric and Elphaba, and Galinda's general annoyance with them all for not behaving as the guests her perfect party deserved, Fiyero felt all of them could have benefited from some of Avaric's special stash.

He tried hard not to stare at Elphaba, forcing himself to follow the conversation. Nessa had launched into a diatribe about the perils of debauchery, much to Avaric's delight. "So you've never had a drop to drink? Not even a shot of whiskey for your throat?"

"Of course not. If I am in need of relief, the Unnamed God would provide."

Galinda cut off his cheeky retort. "So, Elphaba, how are your lessons going?"

Fiyero peeked over at her, careful to appear nonchalant. Probably a little too careful. She picked at her salad. "Um, good."

Liam turned to ask, "When is your next exam? I'm sure we would all love to come cheer you on."

"Oh, you don't have to. Really."

"Nonsense." The slimeball reached out to touch her hand. "We'd love to support you."

Fiyero kicked Avaric under the table, and the other boy lurched forward, then plopped his arm around Elphaba. "Um, get away from my woman." Ah, his friend, the actor. As subtle and convincing as a monkey in a feather boa.

Galinda redirected the conversation to some project of Boq's. How she knew so much about everyone's lives, Fiyero couldn't say. If only he hadn't dated her, she would probably be the perfect person to solve his problems with Elphaba. Both roommate and best friend, the blonde was an information jackpot even without her oddly psychic insights. Not that she would help him now.

"And that's how the turtle ended up in the ice cubes," Boq picked up a forkful of potatoes. "Pass the pepper?"

Nessa scoffed, "That story's preposterous." The munchkin rolled his eyes, but didn't respond. She turned to her left, which happened to be Liam. "Have you ever seen a turtle slide on its shell?"

"I've not had much occasion to try it."

She snickered. "I suppose not." She looked across to Boq. "I'll not ask why he has."

"Time for cake," Galinda chimed in before it could escalate. "Who wants to help with the candles?" Elphaba stood, but the blonde pushed her back down. "Not you, silly. It's your birthday."

"Not me, either," Fiyero said, "After your sparkler candles last time, I'm not a big fan of fire."

"They were pretty!"

"And dangerous," Elphaba interjected. "I'd rather not spend my birthday immolated."

"No fear. I'd douse you in a tick-tock." Liam brandished his water at the ready, and she ducked away.

"Drenched is not preferable."

"Well. It is, though." Fiyero pointed out, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"No, no, see? She's so sweet, the water would make her melt," Liam pressed. "Like sugar in the rain." Avaric pretended to gag. "Haven't you heard the nursery rhyme? Boys are made of puppy tails and girls of sugar and spice."

His friend shook his head, "I hate to be the one to break it to you, but that's not where babies come from."

"Never mind. I'll help." Fiyero pushed his chair back. "Fire sounds much better than hearing Avaric's explanation of the birds and the bees."

"See when a man and woman love each other very much," the other boy mimicked. "Or just really, really want to get laid."

Galinda smacked his arm. "Hush, or no cake."

"Yes, ma'am."

Fiyero followed her toward the kitchen. "This cake isn't by chance strawberry, is it?"

"You mean pink?" She lifted an eyebrow. "I know my roommate, thank you very much." Chagrinned, he held the door. "Besides, everyone knows a girl's best friend is chocolate."

"Fair enough."

She decorated the cake with strategically placed candles. "Thank you for helping."

"Of course." He lit the match and followed behind her, catching the wicks afire.

"With everything. This party's been…"

"Challenging?" She sighed. "Don't take it hard. We're a lot to handle."

"Still. I appreciate it. And I'm sorry for what I said."

"What?"

"Threatening to boil you."

"Oh. No worries." He shook the match out. "But for the record," he turned to catch her gaze, "you know I don't hate you, right?"

She nodded, her eyes suddenly on her shoes.

"Because I don't." He squeezed her hand. "Of course I don't."

He let go to pick up the cake. Her lashes fluttered. "And for the record, I'm glad Elphie has you for a friend."

"You do, too." She smiled, and he felt that finally they might have reached a resolution. "Cake's here."

Liam and Boq cleared the space for the cake, and Fiyero set it in front of the birthday girl with a grin. Galinda started singing, and between the six of them, it must have sounded terrible. Elphaba looked a beautiful cross between mortified and touched as she blew out the candles.

"Finally!" Avaric held out a plate. "Corner piece. And don't skimp on the frosting."

"What is your obsession with cake?"

"Are you kidding? Sugary, free, and totally devoid of anything good for you. If it had boobs, I'd never need anything else."

Elphaba sent Fiyero a look, and he grinned. The boob-free cake didn't last long, and they retreated back toward Shiz. "So dancing? Bowling? Mini-golf?" Galinda solicited her roommate, but Elphaba shook her head.

"I really need to get some work done tonight."

"It's your birthday," she protested, but Elphaba remained firm.

"You go. I'll be fine."

"I can walk her back," Liam offered, but Fiyero stepped in.

"No, that's alright. Avaric and I are going that way. And we've got to plan next week's training times anyway. But I'm sure Nessa would appreciate your escort." The girl beamed from her wheelchair, blatantly thrilled at the company.

"Of course."

Galinda drafted Boq to help clean the wrapping paper, and with a final round of birthday wishes, they set off in three different directions. Two blocks over, Avaric wandered off to a strip club he frequented.

Fiyero fell in step with Elphaba. "So did you enjoy your birthday?"

"Oddly enough, I did."

"You sound surprised."

She shrugged. "I guess I am. I've never been a birthday person." He eyed her sideways, and she elbowed his arm. "You know what I mean."

"I'm glad you liked it." They reached the library far too soon. "Are you sure you don't want to change first? Not that you don't look fantastic, but it's a little formal for the library, isn't it?"

"I guess." She ducked her eyes. "Promise not to say anything to Galinda?"

He blinked, "Yeah, sure."

He forced himself not to lean in at the slight pause. Her beautiful face tilted up toward his, an enigmatic smile lighting it. She bit the corner of her lip, mischievous and sexy.

"I kind of like it." She smoothed out the flair of her skirt. "It's nice to feel…pretty."

It was so hard not to kiss her, it physically hurt. "You look pretty," he managed in a voice too hoarse to match his attempt at lightness. With great restraint, he held back how beautiful she looked everyday, constantly, and how alluring he found her. "Especially with chocolate icing on your face."

He wiped a thumb over the imaginary icing at the corner of her lip, glad when she laughed. "So much for that." She opened the door. "Coming?"

He didn't hesitate, though he hadn't been in the library in ages, maybe since he'd started her tutoring. "I think chocolate may be your color."

"You think?"

"Definitely. You'd keep that boyfriend of yours for sure then."

"Oh, yes. Thanks for that by the way. Why anyone would believe I'd be interested in that rude cretin, I can't say. I'm actually a little offended that no one called you on it."

He shrugged. "Love is blind."

She punched his arm.

They trooped up the stairs to her favorite clump of seats. Despite the empty library, he took the seat beside her. "Happy Birthday, 'Phaba."

Her smile was soft, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thanks. It was."

"Not over yet."

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><p>AN: Sorry for the length. I got a little carried away. I'm also still working on Shot in the Dark, but I had too much fun writing this. Please let me know what you think, and thanks for reading.<p> 


	12. Rest My Eyes

Fiyero flipped a page. "So is this part of my birthday present, too?" Elphaba nudged his book with smile. "I don't think I've ever seen you read this long."

He narrowed his eyes and mocked shushing her.

She went back to her notes. The end of her pen tapped against her lip absently, and he hid his stare with the book. Her hair fluttered loose around her shoulder despite her many attempts to tuck it behind her ears. He indulged a fantasy of wrapping that hair around his wrist. Burying his hands in it at the nape of her neck. The ends of it tickling his chest as she climbed in his bed.

He must have nodded off because he woke with his face plastered to the tabletop. He righted himself, and a raven head lolled off his shoulder. She jerked awake. "Uh?"

"You, too?"

She nodded, eyes bleary. He helped her gather her belongings and checked the time. "Still your birthday. For the next ten minutes at least."

She pressed a sleepy smile. "I get a birthday wish?"

"Anything you want."

Her eyes drifted to his lips, but then continued to close. Wishful thinking, indeed. "A nap would be awesome."

"Or…" He took her hand and led her to the back of the bookshelves. "I mean to show you this when you finished studying, but I should have expected that to be never."

She yawned and swiped a clumsy hand at his arm. "Where are we going?"

"You don't know?" he teased. He located the pull-ladder and yanked on it. "I thought since you basically live here-"

"Shut up," she mumbled, too drowsy to be intimidating. "You barely know where the library is."

He went first up the ladder, half to open the door and half because the hem of her skirt floating above might drive him fully insane. He offered a hand as she lifted herself through the hatch.

"The roof?" He kept her hand to haul her over to the edge. Her grip was tight. "This isn't some murder-suicide thing, right?"

He tucked his chin in an unamused expression. "Look up, Miss Negativity." An inky sky speckled with bright stars stretched around them. The lights from the university dulled the darkness, reflecting back the pinpoints of brilliance above. "It's no Vinkan sunset, but still."

"I would imagine the stars there are like the ones in Munchkinland." He tilted his head, and she explained, "No city lights, no clouds, just sky and stars and dark."

His smile was soft. "You miss home?" Oz knows he did, much as he loved it here.

She blinked up at him. "I am home." The moment swelled around him almost irresistible in its intensity, but he forced himself to be still. "Look, Kumbricia's broom."

"What?" He followed her point. "That's the dragon's tail."

"No, it's Kumbricia's broom. See, there's the bristles."

"Those are claws." He leaned close to trace her finger over the spine and teeth. "It's part of the Great Sky Dragon. Mukemal drak av havaya."

She shifted her weight toward him. "What else?"

He considered the sky. "Well, Okcu ve kartal-altin, the Archer and Eagle. See the arrow?" She followed his finger to the line of stars. "And here, Kyvrik havai, the Serpeant."

"Your sky is much more violent. I like it."

He laughed. "Why, what are yours?"

She pointed out a curve with two sharp points. "Cow's horns. Ok-cow Ka-horn-e," she mocked his translation, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Sorry. Yours sound so much more interesting in Vinkun."

"Inek korna," he supplied, and she grinned up at him.

"See?" He gave her an indulgent smile and nodded back toward the stars. She indicated a rectanglish shape with three dots in the center. "The Maiden in the Tower."

"Damya vij vezyule." She tried to repeat it, and he laughed. "Close enough."

"Was it hard to learn another language?"

He shrugged. "I've always spoken both, as long as I can remember."

"Say something else. Say," she thought for a moment. "Say 'library'."

"That's what you want me to say?" He shook his head, but said, "Librefiya."

"Say," she yawned, "birthday."

"I think you meant 'bedtime.' Come on, let's go." She stretched, and took a step toward the door. "

"You should teach me Vinkun. You know, when you're done teaching me basic coordination."

He chuckled softly. "Sure."

"Liberifayra," she repeated to herself as she descended the ladder, and he fought a grin. She tried again, "Librafia."

He repeated it correctly, amused by her attempt to copy him. "Why the sudden multiculturalism?"

She shrugged, eyes on the ladder as he lifted it back into place. "Why not?"

"If you want, you can come with me at vacation," he forced his voice to sound casual, but now that he said it aloud, he desperately wished she would agree.

"I didn't think you went home. Don't you go with Avaric?"

"Sometimes. It's too long a trip to bother usually, but if it's for your educational advancement, how could I turn you away?"

Her fingers plucked at her sweater. "I don't want to be a bother."

He rolled his eyes and tapped her nose. "I offered. No bother." The library was empty as they slipped through the dimmed rooms. "It's been too long since I've been home, anyway. You're giving me the perfect excuse."

He was pushing now. The logical part of his brain managed to shut him up before he made it worse. She changed the subject as she opened the main door. "How'd it get so late?"

"See, the sun goes down at night…"

"I feel like I could sleep forever." She let out a long yawn. He steered them toward Crage. "Seven's going to be painful."

No argument there. "What if we skip your run tomorrow? We should start on golfing anyway." She wrinkled her nose. "You'll like it. It's very geometrical."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Is it?"

"So I'm told." He caught her hand. "You're doing well so far. At this rate, you'll make your A for sure."

They reached her dorm, and she stepped toward him into a hug. Surprised, it took a moment for him to wrap his arms around her. One hand came to cup the back of her head, but he managed to stop himself before he buried his face in her hair.

"Thanks, Fiyero," she murmured. "You're a good friend."

He hoped she didn't feel his wince. That's what he wanted, right? She didn't want more, and he had decided to be content with her friendship, for now at least. So why did the words sting?

"Happy Birthday, 'Phaba," he breathed, his hand smoothing over her back.

She sighed into his shoulder and stepped out of his arms. "But it's not my birthday anymore." She nodded toward the sky. It was well past midnight.

"It can always be your birthday." It didn't make sense, but she smiled anyway. He combed a hand through her hair, untangling an imaginary knot. She blinked up at him, and if she were any other girl, he would have kissed her. If it had been two weeks ago, or if he hadn't realized she meant more to him than he could possibly lose…

"Yero?" her voice breathless. "Do you-"

"Hey! Arti!" A drunken voice slurred happily. "The Yers!"

He had never wanted to punch his friend more than at this very moment. "Avaric, what are you doing here?"

"I, gotta," he trailed off, his attention wandering, "Damn, Arti, you look kinda pretty."

She crossed her arms tight over her chest. "Gee, thanks. I'm touched."

"Hey, I'mahave to stay with you." Avaric dropped an arm around Fiyero's shoulders. "Some guys maybe looking for me."

Fiyero looked at him sideways and fought a sigh. "Night, Elphie. You okay from here?" She shot him a condescending look. "Course. See you in the morning."

"What time?"

He weighed the potential lack of sleep his friend was about to inflict on him. "Ten? Maybe eleven?"

"Sounds good. See you then."

"Night, Arti!" Avaric waved limply. She shook her hand and spared Fiyero a sympathetic look. His friend lolled against him. "Sorry I interrupted your foreplay."

Fiyero grimaced. "Not a problem, Av. Just walking her back." He refused to look at her face.

"Hey, gimme your keys. I'll crash at yours, an you can stays with Arti." He let go of Fiyero, wobbled a few steps, and clutched the lamppost. "Or we can all stay here. I'll sit outside till your done."

Fiyero was going to murder him, if Elphaba didn't do it first. She took the steps to the front door. "Yeah, I'm going to go before he starts stripping."

"Ooh, I get to join?" Avaric teetered toward her, and Fiyero hauled him back.

"Night, 'Phie. Happy birthday." That earned him a smile from her as his friend's drunken weight slumped against him heavily. "Come on, Av. If you pass out, I'm not dragging your sorry ass all the way to Briscoe."

He heard the click of the door behind them and started the long journey back to their dorm. Out of sight from Crage, he flicked Avaric on the ear. "Thanks for that."

"Hey! Whas that for?"

"Oz, Av, why are you such an idiot?" But he felt like asking himself the same question. What did he think would have happened, if Avaric hadn't interrupted? She didn't want him. He was her friend. Hadn't she said that?

"Sorry."

"And what're you thinking? Saying all that about foreplay? I should make you sleep in the hall."

His friend mumbled a drunken apology.

"Dammit, Avaric, why are you so drunk anyway? Shouldn't you have some tolerance by now? Or are you just trying to make my life miserable?" He fumbled with the front lock and propelled his friend through the doorway. "Other way, genius."

The tall boy clung to the stair rail. "Why're you so mad?"

He wanted to rage at him, dump all the frustration on him and leave it behind. Avaric might deserve it, but it wouldn't do any good. Fiyero drew a deep breath and let it out. "Sorry, Av. Just tired." So tired.

They reached their floor, and Avaric tipped toward the floor, nearly bringing them both down.

"I didn't mean it. You don't have to sleep in the hall. Come on."

Fiyero dragged him back to standing, which earned a slurred, "Thanks, Yer. You're a good friend."

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I heard."

He unlocked his dorm and plopped Avaric against the wall inside. The taller boy stumbled off, and Fiyero set to work locking up and getting ready for bed. "You better not be on the bed," he called from the bathroom as he brushed his teeth.

It wasn't the end to the evening he'd envisioned when they'd left that afternoon. Not that he thought he'd be anywhere else, exactly. But if he'd had to guess, it wouldn't have been Avaric spending the night.

He walked out to find his friend passed out facedown in the middle of the bed. Fiyero let out a sigh. "Ass."

He shoved the boy over and groaned at the puddle of drool. "Gross, Av, that's my pillow." He contemplated shouldering his way on the bed, but sleeping with a drunk, sweaty Avaric was not what he'd signed up for. Lurline, he was probably a cuddler.

Fiyero made a pallet of blankets and wrestled a pillow from under his friend. The floor was hard under his back. His hip dug uncomfortably into the cold tiles under him. He decided to focus on the earlier part of the day, full of stars and hugs and beautiful brown eyes. He shut his eyes, willing himself to sleep.

Avaric began to snore.

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><p>AN: This went a little differently than I'd planned. I just can't seem to stop writing Avaric. Please let me know what you thought, and thanks for the reviews. I hope to have a chapter ready in time, but I'm flying out to New York for an interview this week, so I might be a little late posting. I should at least have an update to Shot in the Dark by then. Wish me luck :-)<p> 


	13. My Words, They Explode

AN: Sorry for the delay. I'm not sure why it wouldn't upload.

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><p>Fiyero woke with a stiff neck and a sore hip. He rolled onto his back, and smacked his head into the side of the bed. "Perfect," he groaned and flung a hand to his injured forehead. "You better not have puked in my bed, Av, or I'm punching you in the face."<p>

He wallowed in his exhaustion another thirty seconds before he forced himself to sit up. An arm flopped over the side of the bed, nailing him in the face. He stood before his impromptu guest took out an eye.

"Time to get up and stumble home." He jostled the sleeping oaf's arm. "Either change into a naked girl or get out of my bed."

"Mmfft," Avaric mumbled face-first into his pillow.

"Come on, up. I've got to get dressed."

He let a long groan. "Shhh. Too loud."

Fiyero leaned close to his friend's ear. "Up!"

Avaric flipped the pillow up with a vicious scowl and slapped it over his head. "G'away."

"Up, or I'll get all Galinda's friends here and offer a fashion makeover in the Emerald City. That's as shrill as it gets."

"You're evil," filtered through the stuffing.

Fiyero crossed to the closet and rummaged for clothing. "Yeah, well, after last night, you deserve it. Up and at 'em. You're going to make me late."

Avaric let the pillow fall with a heavy plop. "Sorry. Thanks for letting me crash here."

"You alright to go, or do you need the witness protection program?"

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Nah, I'm fine. Hungover, but fine." Fiyero gave his shoulder a tap on the way to the bathroom.

"If you're sure. I'd rather not have to bail you out of a fight."

"As if you'd be any help." Avaric had to raise his voice to be heard over the running water, and Fiyero smirked at the punishment that wrought him.

"Right. Guess I was powdering my nose last month."

"I could've taken them."

Fiyero didn't bother to answer until he finished his shower and dressed. "Well, out of my bed."

Avaric framed a pout and fluttered his lashes. "I bet you said that to all the girls."

"Yep. Now shoo."

"Careful, Fifi," he stretched and climbed out of bed. "You'll make me think what we share isn't special anymore."

Fiyero clapped a hand on his friend's back, guiding him toward the door. "You know you're the only nuisance for me."

"Aww." The tall boy flopped his head back against the prince's shoulder. "Snookems! You'll make me blush."

He shrugged him off to lock the door behind them. "I've got to meet Elphaba."

"Of course you do. It's a day that ends in y after all. What are you doing today?"

"Golf."

"Don't let her get too far away or you might lose her on the green." Fiyero smacked him in the shoulder, and Avaric held up his hands. "Sorry, forgot. She's your sort-of-almost-maybe-someday girlfriend."

He didn't bother to argue, as that would only take more time. A last punch to his friend's arm, and Fiyero hurtled down the stairs and out into the fresh air. The day matched his enthusiasm, bright and sunny. The long night had convinced him that any time spent with Elphaba, friend or otherwise, was worth more than anything else.

He climbed up the stairs to her dorm a full five minutes early. Oh, well. He could wait for her while she changed, if she wasn't already set to go. He tapped on the door with a grin. "It's me, Phaba. Ready to golf?"

Then he heard a low curse from a voice too deep to belong to either of the roommates. He took a step back. The door jerked open, and a disheveled Galinda glared at him. "She's not here. Go away."

The redness of her cheeks could only mean that Tavon was inside. His good mood vanished. "Where is she?"

A hand found her hip. "This again? I don't even want to know what you did. Leave her alone."

Indignant, he sniped back, "I didn't do anything. I'm just early."

"Then come back later." She stepped back to close the door, but he grabbed the edge. "Fiyero-" she warned, but he refused to back down.

"I know you've got Tavon in there, and honestly, I don't give a damn." The twist in his stomach called him a liar. "Either I'm going to wait right here for her to get back, however long that takes, or you're going to tell me where she is. So if you want to get back to," he waved a hand toward her twisted robe, "whatever you two were doing, you'll tell me where to find her."

For a tense moment he thought she might punch him. Her blue eyes flashed with anger, but she ground out, "Nessa's. Not go away."

He released the door with hands held up, and she slammed it shut so hard it echoed in the still hallway.

Before the voices could continue, he spun on his heel and vaulted down the stairs. The image of Galinda and Tavon clearly spending the night swam behind his eyelids, but he shoved it away. No sense dwelling on those thoughts. The sooner he found Elphaba, the sooner he could reclaim his good mood.

He banged on Nessa's door with a little more force than necessary, but even so, there was no answer. Then he heard the yelling.

"I don't care what you say!"

"Oz, Nessa, why do you have to be so stubborn?"

He knocked again with more gusto, and the door hurtled back. The wild set to Elphaba's eyes knocked enough surprise into him to calm the frustration Galinda had left. "Not now, Fiyero."

He stepped forward anyway, and she shifted to allow him in. "Everything okay?"

"No, everything's not okay," she ground out, eyes burning into the flushed face of her little sister. "Nessa here refuses to believe me that she should stay away from Liam."

The diminutive girl swung her head forward, as wild as he'd ever seen her. "He loves me!"

"He's psychotic!" Elphaba flung a hand out to punctuate her frustration. "He's obviously using you to get to me."

"Right, because that's likely," Nessa's sarcasm held a bitter poison. "I might be in a wheelchair, but even I'm not that pathetic to be second choice to you."

"Pathetic?" Elphaba screeched back, and Fiyero took a step forward before she launched toward her.

"Ladies, let's not say things we'll regret."

"He's been stalking me, you idiot," she sneered. "Now all of sudden he's interested in my little sister? Yes, that sounds completely genuine."

"So you think he'd prefer you?" Her sister barked a cold laugh. "No one would."

Proof of the opposite, Fiyero took a step forward with a calming, "Hey. That's enough." But they both ignored him.

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Because you're the expert on relationships now."

"More than you."

"Right. I forgot. Four whole weeks with a munchkin plainly in love with someone else."

Fiyero shot her a censuring look. "El, come on."

Nessa's face was crimson, now. She flashed a snarl and hissed, "Better than you. You think Liam would pick you? Look at you, you're a freak. Even Father can't stand the sight of you. He thinks Momma _died_ to get away from you."

Fiyero let out a curse and stepped between them. "What's the matter with you? She's your sister. She's trying to protect you."

"I don't need her protection."

But he could see the thinnest edge of regret pass through Nessa's face, and he knew in a day or two she would give anything to take her words back. But the pain that creased Elphaba's face said despite forgiveness, those words would haunt her to the end of her days.

"Fine," she snapped. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

She spun on her heel, and he followed her out into the hallway. Her spine stiff, she stalked toward the main doors. "Are you alright?" He reached a hand toward her, but she shook him off.

"Fine. Whatever. She wants to make her mistakes, who am I to stop her?"

"About what she said-"

"Don't." She shook her head, words rigid with controlled emotion. "Please, don't say anything."

He nodded and forced himself to stay back. She needed space. "We don't have to golf today if you're not up for it." Her eyes met his, grateful for the out. "Just, um, I went to your room earlier and Galinda seemed a little," he swallowed, "busy. But there's always the library. Or hell, you can use my room, and I'll go get a coffee if you want to study by yourself."

"No, let's go golf. I wouldn't be able to concentrate anyway."

"Then by all means, let's get you a projectile and something to hit it with." That earned him a small smile.

They headed toward the course, uncomfortable silence between them at the intimacy of his witness. His heart broke for her at the pain flickering below the surface of her face, and he knew his presence had made it worse for her. But she would never have confided in him, and armed with the knowledge of her sister's barbs, he could hope to soothe the wounds, or at the very least avoid further injury.

"Have you ever been golfing before? Mini-golf or the like?" She shook her head. "Alright, we'll start slow."

He located clubs, balls and a tee. She trailed behind him, an unnatural quiet absorbing them.

"It's similar stance to baseball, in a way. Legs apart, grip stacked." He demonstrated, but though her eyes rested on him, she didn't seem to see anything. "Here, you try."

She took the club and adopted a wooden stance not at all like what he'd demonstrated. He tried to adjust her, but her corrections caused more careless mistakes. Still her eyes felt a thousand miles away, and he tapped her on the nose.

"Hey, you here?"

"Huh? Oh yeah." She shook her hair back and tried again to mimic his swing. Her distraction felt palpable, and he took a frustrated step toward her.

"Elphaba, come on. Try a little here."

She blinked up at him and reset her hands too close again. "Sorry. Like this?"

"No, that's the-" He drew a breath and moved behind her, his arms wrapping around to adjust her hands at the correct width. She stiffened, but for the first time, she seemed present. His lips grazed the shell of her ear, "Concentrate."

She didn't so much as breathe. He should step back, should give her the space she wanted, needed. But he stayed too close, too indulgent to that desperate part of him. He guided the club in a smooth swing. Her body twisted with his, and her sharp breath in brought her back flat against his chest.

"Make more sense?"

She nodded, slow and tense, but she didn't pull away.

"Want to try?"

Her lip found its way between her teeth. "You could…show me again?"

He let out a tense breath, ruffling the hair by his lips. "Yeah, sure." He guided the swing, once, twice, and a third time. She shifted her weight a millimeter back against him. He let his hands release the club in favor of her hips. "Now, pivot toward the ball and let your right leg come forward."

"Show me?"

He started to let go, but she leaned into him. His hands stayed flat against her hips, rotating her along with him. The pressure of her hips against his drove him crazy. His eyes fluttered shut as he struggled to retain his dignity. This was a bad idea. He could feel that frantic need she inspired in him spiraling out of control.

She arched her back a fraction of an inch, and he drew a shaky breath. "Fiyero…"

No, this wasn't right. She was upset, and he didn't want her to run again when she thought about it. He didn't think he'd survive. "So picking the right club is important."

He retreated to the bag and rummaged for a five iron. She spun to face him, but he put the bag between them. If he kissed her, it would be over, and the temptation to kiss her was so overwhelming, he had to dig his fingernails into his palm to hold back.

"You'd use a driver for distance, or a putter for close. But most of the time, you'll want to find a good iron. If you get into a jam, you can use one of the wedges, which are like specialized irons."

He peeked up at her when she didn't comment, and the sadness in her expression tore at him. Her eyes flicked to meet his. He swallowed, trying hard not to reach for her. "Good club, got it."

He handed her the lofted iron, and she took it with slumped shoulders. "The right club for you." He was an idiot. He reached a hand out to cup her chin. "A patient club that wants you to be happy."

She shot him a look. "Oh? They make those clubs?"

"Yeah. One that doesn't want to rush the swing again and screw everything up."

A blush stole over her face. "So not an…uninterested club?"

His eyebrows shot up. "No, not at all." He took a step toward her, his other hand coming to her elbow. "A very, very interested club."

"I'm fairly certain they're just metal." But he knew she'd gotten the message. He let her retreat this time, an enigmatic smile not quite hidden on her face. "So, how do I beat you at this?"

He laughed. "Starting small, I see."

She shrugged, and a tension he hadn't realized slipped from his shoulders. He explained scoring, and led her to the first hole. "So, wager?"

"Who are you, and what have you done with Elphaba Thropp?" A wickedly arched eyebrow made him grin. "Alright, winner gets…what would you want?"

Her eyes dipped to his lips, but she said, "Loser buys dinner, fair?" He dipped a nod, and she pushed herself to her full height. "I think I'm in the mood for lobster. How's your wallet?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. It's my giant steak that's going to cost you."

She started wide, and he corrected her automatically. "Hey, no cheating."

"You don't want help? What's the purpose of this again?"

"How do I know you're not trying to get my lobster?"

He leaned close, "Oh, I am. But I've got to even the odds somehow." She laughed, and he adjusted her swing before he set down the ball. "Alright, mulligan."

She accomplished a fair drive to the green, and he knocked his ball after hers. They headed that direction trading trash talk. He let himself correct her more physically than necessary, but though she noticed, she didn't seem to mind. Perhaps because, as he was basically playing himself, the score never varied more than a couple strokes.

"Alright, last hole. You're on your own."

She cocked a hip forward, "Good. About time you stop holding me back."

"Oh, is that what I'm doing?" He tossed an arm around her waist. She wiggled free, laughing. "Here I thought I was keeping the score tied."

She shushed him and narrowed her eyes in concentration. He could tell she'd learned enough to pass her retest. A swell of pride sunned through him. Her drive landed on the green, and she stuck out her tongue.

He pinched her nose and moved to take that position. She leaned close, and he spun to face her. "Can I get some room?"

"Oh, too shy?"

"Shy, hmm? Doesn't sound like me." He looped a hand around her again. "But if you're wanting to stay close…"

She stretched against him, her body soft against his side. "Maybe I am."

He tipped his head down toward her, relishing the new freedom to flirt. "Promises, promises." For a second, the temptation to kiss felt so right that he almost gave in.

Before he could, she stepped back, cheeks dark. "I guess I'll have to watch the master work."

He flashed a cocky grin, and sent the ball across to the green. They hurried to see which had gone farther, and Fiyero groaned. "Unacceptable!"

Elphaba sauntered to her ball a full six feet closer. She moved to swing, but at the top of the arc, he nudged an elbow in her ribs. She jumped, knocking the ball way off-course.

She blinked at him a moment before following with an affronted harrumph. "Just couldn't handle me beating you, could you?"

"Course not. You'll wound my delicate male pride."

She snorted. "Mustn't have that."

Three more strokes, each with a suspicious glare to him, and she'd gotten her ball in. "My turn." He selected a putter, and she flashed him a wicked grin. "You're up to no good, aren't you?"

"Me?" She assumed an innocent expression. "Never."

He mimed watching her and took his swing. She edged up to him, but before she could wreak vengeance, he swung around to snatch her against him. "Well, hello, there, said the spider to the fly."

"Not sure that's how it goes."

"Sentiment's fair enough."

She stretched up, lips parted, and he let her go before he could act on his worser instincts. "Not sure that's true."

"You try to interfere again, and you'll find out."

She flashed a mischievous grin. Newfound confidence not withstanding, he knew she wasn't ready for the next step. The fact that she openly flirted back felt like a miracle, and one he wasn't ready to jinx.

He waved her back, three feet, four, and more until her eyes widened in skeptical disbelief. "Come on, I won't bother your precious game."

But he shook his head in his best Morrible imitation and pointed for her to retreat another three feet. Then he turned back to the ball and wiggled a dramatic preparation. He swung, and the ball whirred over the grass to tink in the hole. He grinned. "Steak it is."

"Not fair! You cheated!" She crossed her arms. "You should be buying me lobster."

"You cheated, too. You're just mad I cheat better."

"Well, you do have more practice."

He sent her a lopsided grin. "True. Fine, I'll get you lobster, and you get me steak. We both win."

"We both lose," she countered, retrieving the ball from the cup inside.

He took them from her with a somber, "We both eat."

"Good plan, Tiggular. Good plan."

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><p>AN: For those of you who don't read Shot in the Dark, just a thanks again for all the well wishes on my interview and for all your PMsreview. I always appreciate hearing what you think of my work.


	14. Tie My String

Fiyero checked her knot and tested the fit of her harness. The waist hung too loose, and he reached around her to tighten it, trying as hard as she did to ignore the proximity. He worked the rope through the belay, and convinced she'd be safe, he took a step back.

"Alright. Make sure you have a good grip before you release the other, especially footing. Always three points in contact." He climbed up a couple feet, demonstrating as he talked. He looked back and caught her eying his taut biceps. His unvoiced laugh colored his words, "Plan ahead so you don't get trapped. You can see from below if the holds are spacing apart more than you'd like."

Without a safety line, he couldn't go much farther, so he jumped down and picked up the belay rope. She didn't step forward until he nudged her arm.

"You'll be fine. I've got the line. I won't drop you." Her anticipation was palpable, more than he'd seen since they had started this. "Belay on. Climb."

She took a tentative grasp of the first handholds. Her eyes trained on the rock, but she didn't move for a full minute. Right as he drew breath to intervene, she lifted herself off the ground to the first set.

"Great. Edge left, toward the wider holds." She followed instruction, her discomfort apparent. He could see the fatigue settling into her arms, and he called out, "Use your legs. They're stronger. Weight down while you lift up."

About ten feet up, she reached a handhold too narrow to support her weight, and the next a few inches out of reach. Her balance precarious, she stretched toward the hold. He held his breath, watching her arms strain toward the narrow hold.

Her fingertips brushed the protrusion. He willed her to hold on, to stretch the extra half-inch she needed. She lifted a foot to brace against the wall and edge higher, and though he cringed, he didn't dare call out advice and risk distracting her.

The rubber toe of her shoe slid down the face without reaching a grip, and the unexpected motion tipped her precarious position beyond repair. She skidded off the narrow ledge, her one hand all that kept her from empty air.

He slammed the belay device locked, though it didn't need much more than a tap. "Hang on," he encouraged. He could see her chest rise and fall with desperately controlled breaths. "Try to get your feet under you again."

Her shoes scraped without purchase on the rock wall. Her arm shook with the weight of her entire body dangling for it. He let out a breath. She wasn't going to like this.

"Okay, let go."

"Let go?" He could sense the panic in her voice, though she kept her eyes resolutely locked on the grip above her.

"Yes, let go. I'll lower you down, and we can try again." She hesitated, every instinct screaming to cling to the rock, but she forced herself to trust his instructions. The rope pulled taut as she fell back, and she let out an inadvertent squeak. "It's alright. I've got you."

She let out a shaky breath and nodded. With a measured hand, he maneuvered her steady descent. A few feet lower, and she'd relaxed considerably. "Well, that went spectacularly."

"It's part of the process."

She narrowed her eyes. "If you give me that 'we only fall down to get back up' speech again, I'll-"

"What?" he interrupted, an eyebrow raised at her current position dangling four feet in the air. "Spin at me?"

"Shut up and get me down."

He swallowed an easy retort and lowered her to the ground. She deflated and moved to take off the harness. "Hey, slow down there tiger. You don't think you're done, do you?"

Her eyes widened, fear creeping back in her expression. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're done when you reach the top."

Her lips wedged between her teeth. She wanted to argue, but she squared her shoulders and faced the rock. He unhooked the belay rope, and she spun to face him again. "No safety? What if I fall again?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course you'll have a safety. You think I'm trying to kill you?"

"If I say yes?"

He thumped her nose and led her over to the auto-belay. This would be interesting, both of them hooked together, but the system could handle more than two if necessary. He slipped on his harness under her watchful eye. "Coming?"

"I don't have a choice. Why, are you?" His grin echoed on her face. "You're coming?"

He focused on the rejuvenated energy she displayed, fear replaced so quickly with his presence. "Alright, weight on your heels, three points of contact at all times," he reminded, and they started up the face of the wall side by side. Within a few feet, she had begun to emulate his rhythm - lift, pull, step. "Alternate sides, right hand, left leg."

They reached thirty feet before the first sign of trouble. She started toward another dead-end, and realized a safe four feet beyond. "I think I'm out of holds soon."

He leaned back to study the course. "Yeah. Can you come toward me?"

She edged right, but the holds spaced too far apart to work horizontally. "Diagonal?"

"I think you'll have to climb down a few feet and veer this way instead. Think you can manage to go down?" She paled, but nodded. He felt a thrum of pride for his brave girl. Definitely not a quitter. "Alright, I'll mirror. Watch me first if you need to."

He reversed the process. The balance on descent was more difficult, but she managed to do so without falling. He had reached about a foot from her when her toe slipped. She jerked forward, slamming herself into the rock.

"Hey, deep breaths." Her wide eyes turned on him, and he edged toward her to grip her waist. "Step up. I've got you."

It strained his arm, but he held her steady. "Okay, I think I've got it."

He let go of her harness gradually to keep her as steady as possible, and then guided her to a path closer beside his. "Ten more feet." The new path led them to within a couple feet of the edge before it thinned out. "Alright. Follow me up."

He reached the summit and hauled himself up onto the ledge at the top. She reached the edge behind him, and he helped her over the brink to rest.

"You made it."

"Thank Oz." She flopped against his side, breathing hard. "How do you make this look so easy?" Then she made a face. "Never mind. You make everything look easy."

"Everything?" he grinned. "Even geometry?"

"Geometry _is_ easy."

"Not to me." He leaned back on his hands, pleased when she didn't leave the space at his side. Their legs hung over the edge, dangling above forty feet of empty air. "But I've been climbing for probably as long as you've done geometry, so that's pretty even. Haven't you calculated equations since birth?"

"Shut up," she knocked lightly against him. "Why, have you climbed since birth?"

"Not birth, per se. Unless you count furniture."

"I bet you were a handful as a child."

He leaned his head toward her. "Still am."

"That's the truth." She rested her cheek against his joint of his shoulder and collarbone. "What about rock climbing?"

"I used to climb cliffs with my father. The mountains near one of our palaces were especially close, and he would take me in the mornings at the crack of dawn. Sunrise in the Vinkus is breathtaking." He drew a sigh against the nostalgia. "I'll have to show you, when we go for break."

"So you're serious about that?"

He peeked down at her. "If you are."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

"Mind? I'd love the company. That's a long trip without anyone to talk to." And far too long without seeing her face. He changed the subject before she conjured some excuse. "Ready for your final? Less than a week now, right?"

"Yeah, this is the last retest."

He regretted the end even as he anticipated her success. She'd earned her reward, and he wanted her to enjoy it. But he would miss this time together and the way it felt for her to need him. "You'll be amazing."

The conversation lulled. After a moment, she looked up. "So I need a plan." He lifted an eyebrow, and she explained. "Nessa still doesn't believe me about Liam, and I can't just let him take advantage of her."

"Even after what she said?"

Elphaba refused to acknowledge his question. "If I can get him to admit it in front of her, she won't have a choice but to accept it."

"How're you going to do that?"

She shrugged, the motion rocking his side. "Galinda thinks I should go on a double date with them."

"Does she?" he chuckled.

"I know, that's always her solution. But it's not the worst idea, and I don't have anything better."

"I suppose it's worth a try. Not like it'd hurt anything."

"So you'll do it?" His breath caught when she tipped her face toward his. "You'll come with me?"

"Of course." He kept his voice calm, though inwardly he vacillated between worry if the date were genuine and thrill at escorting her, however contrived the reason might be.

She ducked her head back to his shoulder, and he let his cheek come to rest against her. He had to be careful though. This hesitant exploration of her feelings had taken weeks, and if he scared her away again, he didn't want to think of the cost.

"Ready to head down?"

She shook her head. "It's nice up here. Quiet."

"Our very own fort, huh?" He cherished her soft smile. "Much as I would love to stay up here with you all day, we'd probably better head down before dinner."

She eyed the cliff. "That's a long way down. What if we just live up here?"

"And what, forage for food from the dust bunnies? I don't think they're edible."

"We could tackle other climbers and steal their granola bars."

"Could we?" He tried not to laugh at her somber nod. "And if they have none?"

"Eventually they would. It's a numbers game."

"So we'd just have to tackle an endless supply of climbers poised on the top of a precipice high in the air to subsist on their hypothetical granola."

"Hey, I never promised you a rose garden."

"Come on, chicken. It's not so bad." He slipped his arm from behind her with regret and dangled himself over the edge until he reached a foothold. "Gravity's with you. Worst comes to worst, you can always fall down."

"Thanks, Yero, very helpful."

"That's what I'm here for." He gave her a significant glance, and she sighed heavily. "Lower yourself down."

She reached awkwardly down, and he looped an arm around her for stability. "Maybe I shouldn't have discounted that falling thing."

"You'll be fine. Okay, keep your weight back and walk down." He led her down without incident, and she breathed a sigh of relief when her feet touched the ground. "Alright, now to Nessa?"

Her shoulders slumped. "I hate you."

Fiyero walked with her to the bottom floor of Crage and knocked on her sister's door. She fidgeted next to him, and he gave a quick squeeze to her elbow. "Just don't get baited into another argument."

"Easy for you to say."

The door swung open, and when Nessa saw who had knocked, she crossed her arms. "What do you want?"

"I would like to apologize," Elphaba stated woodenly. "I shouldn't have criticized Liam's intentions, and I'd like to prove I mean it by taking you both to dinner."

"Dinner?"

"A double date," she sighed. "What do you say?"

The younger girl clearly wanted to agree, but she hesitated. "I don't know. Liam might not want to."

"Why not?"

"You did say some pretty mean things about him."

Elphaba straightened her spine. "Hence, the dinner. Think of it as aiding my repentance."

"It's atonement, actually, but I suppose that would be the virtuous response." A smile broke free on Nessa's face as she caught her sister's hand. "Oh, Fabala, we'd love to double date with you and Avaric. It would be our first double."

"Avaric?" Then Elphaba turned her steely eyes at Fiyero. "Right. Of course, Avaric. My 'boyfriend'."

He flashed her an apologetic wince.

"I do so hate it when we fight, Fabala." Nessa held her arms out for a hug, and her sister complied. "About what I said-"

Elphaba held up a hand. "It's forgotten."

Like hell it was. Fiyero hid his disgruntlement with a faux scratch to his nose. Though he supported their reconciliation, she at least deserved an apology.

"So when should we plan our dinner?" Nessa twittered happily. "Tomorrow? Or the weekend?"

"Friday," Fiyero suggested, and Elphaba nodded.

"I'll get back to you on the time."

"Where are we going?"

The girl's enthusiasm was infectious, as if she'd never been on a double date, period. "Where would you like to go, my pretty?"

"Oh, wherever you want." Nessa wheeled back toward her closet. "I wonder if I should get a new dress."

Elphaba caught his eye and made a face, unnoticed by her sister. "We can work out the details later. Fiyero and I should probably shower."

Nessa turned around a little faster than he'd expected, and he took a reflexive step back. "Pardon?"

"We've just finished my training session, and I'm sure I've taken up enough of his time." He lifted an eyebrow, but she avoided his eyes.

Nessa wheeled back toward the door behind them. "Alright. Talk to Avaric and let me know what time on Friday. Bye, Fiyero."

He tipped a wave on their way out and waited for Elphaba to stoop in a tense hug. As soon as the door closed, she turned on him. "Avaric is just the gift that keeps on giving, huh?"

"It's not like I did it on purpose. I was trying to help." She made a condescending face, and he threw his arms around her ribs to tickle her. "Hey, if you can forgive Nessa, you can forgive me. I'm much more loveable."

"That's debatable." Then Elphaba hung her head back with a groan. "Oh, I'm an idiot. I should have just told her we broke up."

"Well, it's too late now." He caught her hand in a loose grip. "I'll talk to him. Warn him to behave."

She spun to face him. "You're not going?"

Taken aback, he cocked his head to the side. "How would I?"

"We can triple."

He lifted an eyebrow. "So you want me to invite a girl?" Even brainless as he was, he knew that was a terrible idea.

"Sure. Why not?"

He took a step toward her, encroaching on her personal space and drawing a warm flush to her cheeks. Her eyes drifted to his lips, and he trailed a hand inch by inch up her arm. "I should think that's fairly obvious."

"It doesn't have to be a _date_ date. It could be a friend."

"Like who? It's not as if I could ask Galinda, and you're not available."

She stepped back and crossed her arms. "Are you saying you can't find someone?"

"I'm saying," he closed the distance again, "I'm not interested in looking." Not with her right in front of him. She frowned, but he tipped her chin up. "I suppose I can be persuaded."

"Oh?" He nodded, and she uncrossed her arms to slide up his shoulders. "And how does one manage that?"

His lips dipped toward hers, brushing feather light against her brow. "Again with the obvious answers."

Her eyes flicked up to his. "What if I ask very nicely?" He tilted a smile at her. "Yero, please?"

Damn. He would literally do anything for her the way those sweet eyes pleaded at him. He leaned down before he caught himself, and by the time he realized it, he'd almost touched his lips to hers. He diverted the kiss to the edge of her mouth, but it was still enough to singe his veins with the electricity between them.

He pulled back to touch her forehead to his. "Consider me persuaded."

"Not so difficult," she teased. She moved to step back, but he didn't release his grip on her waist.

"Maybe for some. Care to work for inspiration now?"

"Oh?"

"Well, how do you expect me to pick up a girl if I don't practice?"


	15. Thorn in my Side

AN: I know this story has been dead so long, it's more like a zombie at this point. It might have taken me three years, but I can officially say I have finished it. I'm editing the last chapters now, so I can promise that it will be completed in the next few weeks. Thank you to anyone who is still willing to read the end, and my sincerest apologies for the wait.

* * *

><p>"So where are we going?" The brunette leaned toward Fiyero, eyelashes aflutter, and he stepped away on the pretense of opening the door. For a random phone call from his date book, she seemed to be taking their prospects very seriously.<p>

"Yeah, what's for dinner?"

He glanced sideways at Avaric. "Surprised you lasted the breath without any vegetable jokes."

"Nah, saving it for Arti." He cast a roguish grin at his friend's date. "So how did a looker like you get roped into this?"

She giggled, though for the life of him, Fiyero couldn't say why. "Silly." Her coy smile screamed confident seduction. Had he actually found her attractive once? A trim figure and a sweet face, perhaps, but those grating, empty-headed giggles…

If it deterred him, it certainly didn't Avaric. His friend puffed up like a turkey in heat at the long-legged beauty. "What an adorable laugh." Fiyero hid his incredulity as he led them up the stairs. No doubt he missed more batting eyelashes, but somehow he thought he'd live.

"You know, if you get tired of my friend here, I'd be happy to-"

"Introduce you to his girlfriend," Fiyero interjected a firm reminder as they reached the girls' room.

He reached forward to knock on the door, only to meet empty air. "Hey." Elphaba stood gripping the doorknob like a life preserver. "You're early."

"You're waiting for us," he pointed out. "Nervous?"

"For my apology dinner? Whatever for." She let go of the door to turn off the lights.

"No Galinda? Here I thought she'd try to weasel a quadruple date out of this, or die trying."

Elphaba kept her eyes on the key as she locked the door. "She already left. They had previous plans."

"Oh." He blinked. Plans with Tavon were enough to miss this? A unique opportunity to double with her nearly reclusive roommate? He dismissed an irrational sting of jealousy. "Elphaba, this is –" Damn. Why did he have to be so bad with names?

"Keiwie." The brunette flashed a pretty smile, though she tucked both hands behind her. "You must be Avaric's girlfriend."

"Yes, unfortunately." Elphaba eyed her a moment, and the other girl shifted back a step as if afraid to be touched. "We'd better get going."

They started toward the stairs, and Fiyero leaned close to whisper, "You look nice."

"Thanks. Galinda sorted me out before she left." She fidgeted with the bow of her sash, and he fought the urge to still her fingers. "I should have worn a sweater."

"Definitely not." He eyed the long lines of her bare arms, and she drew a steadying breath.

"You should go back to Keiwie, or Avaric'll chase her away before we get downstairs."

"I'd rather talk to you."

"Yeah, yeah." She waved him off, and he fell back to tolerate the brunette's newest round of giggles.

A hand with long pink nails dropped on his forearm and squeezed. "Fiyero, you have the funniest friends!" He grimaced a thin smile.

Elphaba knocked on her sister's door, and he buried his hands in his pockets to keep from running them down her soft, silky skin. His date shifted closer, no doubt to get away from Avaric's creepy leer on the other side. He shot his friend a meaningful glare.

Between Avaric flirting with Brunette, Brunette flirting with Fiyero, and Fiyero trying not to flirt with Elphaba, the hallway started to feel suffocating, and they hadn't even picked up the lecher responsible for the entire evening.

Liam opened the door with a wide grin at Elphaba. "Don't you look stunning? Thank you for the invitation tonight. Nessa's been thrilled."

"Where is she?"

"Dressing." Eyebrows lifted, and a murderous look crossed Elphaba's face. "She's been obsessing over which shoes to wear for the last couple hours."

"Shoes?" Avaric snickered. "Not as if it matters for her, right?"

Fiyero smacked him, and unintentionally bumped across his new pet boa. She clung to his bicep. "Careful, Fiyero, silly."

By the end of the night, he wouldn't be able to tolerate that word.

Nessa wheeled up, intricate silver shoes glittering on her feet where they rested on the wheelchair. "So sorry I'm late."

"Not at all," Liam took her hand. "They've only arrived a few moments ago."

"Fiyero? I didn't know you were coming." Nessa blinked up at him. "And who is your lovely date?"

He turned to look at the brunette, drawing a total blank. "Keiwie, right?" Elphaba supplied.

His date nodded, gazing at him expectantly, so he added, "Right. Kiwi."

"Keiwie," she corrected, dropping the dotty voice to fix him with a suddenly lucid stare. He flashed his best apologetic smile, and she giggled another, "Silly."

"That's me." He shot Elphaba a look over the brunette's head that begged for death, and then resumed his charming mask.

"Shall we?" Liam led the party out of Crage and down the street to a waiting carriage. They eyed the smallish cab. "I apologize. I didn't realize there would be more of us."

"Not a problem. Someone'll just have to sit on a lap." Avaric climbed up with a wink at Fiyero's date.

Elphaba helped Nessa up while Liam loaded her chair beside the driver's bench. They squeezed on either side of her, the two sisters sufficiently lean to fit in a single seat, and Avaric sprawled on the opposite side. Fiyero crammed himself into the corner, but the brunette climbed on his lap and flung both arms around his neck.

"We can make room for you."

She tossed her hair with an inviting smile. "Don't be silly."

"I don't think that's very safe," Elphaba snipped.

"Fiyero will protect me, won't you, honey?"

"Probably safer if you sit on the bench," he replied. Much safer, if Elphaba's expression was anything to go by. The brunette gave an aggrieved sigh and took Avaric's eagerly proffered hand to move between them.

"So, you never said where were we going."

"Dinner."

"I meant where, silly. I have a sensitive stomach. My daddy says I eat like a bird." She punctuated this with an unnecessary laugh.

"I'm sure you'll manage," Elphaba's tone was dry. Nessa lifted an eyebrow, and her sister bared her teeth. "Is the café acceptable?"

"Didn't you say we have reservations at the bistro?" She shot Fiyero a look, but he was glad he'd taken the initiative to set it up. If she wanted to make up with her sister, the campus café wouldn't cut it. "Yes, you mentioned it yesterday."

"Right. _Silly_ me."

"I don't eat meat," Kiki piped up, and Elphaba rolled her eyes.

Fiyero cut off Avaric before he could add in his undoubtedly tasteless joke about meat. "They have lovely salads, if I remember correctly."

She tossed her long brown hair. "Alright. But I only eat imported lettuce. I simply can't stand the greens from around here."

Avaric snorted, and Fiyero's heel caught him in the ankle. Liam cleared his throat. "It appears we've arrived. At last."

Fiyero sprang off the carriage before it stopped. Elphaba ignored his hand down, but he caught her hand anyway. "Say the word, and we can disappear."

"It's just dinner."

"Fine. But remember, I offered. And you owe me one."

"Me?"

He gestured toward the brunette as Avaric lowered her, eyelashes aflutter, to the ground. "I'm putting up with Giggles over there for you, aren't I?"

"Yes, what a sacrifice." But she melted into a reluctant smile.

The maître d' showed them to their table, and Fiyero snatched the chair by Elphaba. Liam eagerly claimed the empty seat on her other side, and the others arranged around them. Nessa glanced from left to right. "Avaric, wouldn't you rather sit by your girlfriend?"

Both answered in unison, "No." Elphaba amended, "That's alright. We prefer to see each other across the table."

"Liam, switch."

He looked ready to rebel, but the Thropp DNA asserted itself in her stern expression. Liam stood, and with a reluctant sigh, Avaric hauled himself up and plopped down beside Elphaba, a petulant frown making clear his feelings on the matter.

Liam prompted Kieli in conversation, and Fiyero let his fingertips drift to Elphaba's lap as he kept his eyes forward, his face blank. She matched him, drawing a slow smile from them both.

The waitress came to take their order, and the brainless brunette laid her head on Fiyero's shoulder. "It's so hard to decide. Pick something for me, will you, darling?"

He winced at the now crushing grip on his hand. "Um, she'll have the coq au van with a salad."

Her head jerked up. "I told you. I don't eat meat."

"Oh, right. Of course. Just the salad, then."

Her arms crossed her chest. "Are you calling me fat?"

How in Oz had she gotten there? "If you don't eat meat," Elphaba hissed through a catty smile, "I'm pretty sure vegetables are the only other option."

Avaric swallowed a guffaw. "Yeah, who doesn't like vegetables? Right, Fiyero?"

A sudden wince from Avaric spoke of a sharp heel meeting a thick instep. Fiyero's date, displeased at the spotlight on her tantrum so easily diverted, sniffed. "Well, I guess I'll just have water. Since I'm too fat to be pretty to you anymore."

"Kiva, don't be like that."

Her nostrils flared. "My name is Keiwie! How can you not remember it? Since you love vegetables so much!" She tossed a hateful look toward Elphaba, who for her part managed an innocent face.

"Kiwis are fruits. Not vegetables."

The brunette gave a shriek of frustration and stormed off just far enough that Fiyero was clearly meant to pursue. He gave an aggrieved sigh and set his napkin on the place setting. The waitress tucked her notepad in her apron, "Um, I'll come back, shall I?"

Avaric set a hand on Elphaba's with a voice oozing mock sincerity, "Sorry about her calling you a vegetable. She must not realize that's _our_ thing."

Fiyero excused himself and went after the brunette. She waited to make sure he saw before turning off in a huff. He trailed after her, his attention drifting to those lucky enough to be with the person they preferred. And not chasing a lunatic drama queen. He turned the corner toward another series of candlelit tables, and stopped in his tracks.

He blinked, hoping he was mistaken, but the dancing shadows couldn't hide his friend's familiar face. A pretty redhead chuckled and leaned in for a kiss, which Tavon happily supplied.

Fiyero stood transfixed for a long moment. His friend, who he'd dreaded dating his ex-girlfriend, was actually cheating on Galinda. In front of his very eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" he choked out.

"Fiyero, hey. What're you here for?"

"How could you?" Fiyero felt his pulse pounding in his ears. "Galinda's a great girl. How could you cheat on her? And not even have the decency to try to hide it."

"Cheat on- Galinda? What're you talking about?"

Fiyero took an angry step forward, his hands balling into fists. "Don't play coy. I know you've been seeing her."

The redhead's wide eyes darted back and forth between them. "What?"

His friend turned to face her, palms out. "I don't know what he's talking about. Honestly."

"You-" he grit out, but when he pulled back for a swing, a hand grabbed his arm.

"Fiyero," Elphaba soothed in a tense tone, like calming a wild animal. "Keiwie's back at the table. We should go back."

"Sure. Right after I punch the crap out of this jerk for cheating on Galinda."

"He's not-"

"Worth it? Oh, I know," he snapped back with a sneer. "But she's my friend, and she deserves better than this clown."

"Look, mate, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but you need to chill out."

Elphaba stepped between them. "You're being an idiot. Stop it."

He took a reluctant step back. "I'm going to tell her what I saw. She deserves the truth. So you'd better tell her before I have to, or I swear to Oz-"

"Fiyero, he's-"

He shook free. "Save it." He stormed back toward the table. Though she trailed him, trying to get his attention, he refused to give her the opportunity to defend the creep, even if only to keep Fiyero from doing something stupid.

Nessa spotted them, fanned a sharp wave, and nodded toward the opposite side of the table. Avaric had his arm draped around the dramatic brunette, whispering something in her ear. At her sister's significant look, Elphaba looked lost for a second.

"Oh! Um, Avaric, how could you?" Elphaba smacked him on the arm, and the burly boy grinned.

"Hey. Back?"

"Yes. And you're flirting with her." She belatedly forced a scowl.

"I-"

"That's it. We're through." She dropped into her seat with a relief that in no way matched her words.

"Okay. If you say so." Avaric ran a flirtatious thumb under the brunette's chin to tip it toward him. Fiyero tapped his arm and jerked a head toward the door. "Oh, right. We'll go then, yes?"

The brunette bounced to her feet with a haughty nose in the air. "Sounds fantastic."

"Oh, Fabala!" Nessa grasped her sister's hand. "How terrible! I'm so sorry, though what else you could have expected with that cretin is beyond me. I can't believe you…"

But the words rushed past without him comprehension as the brunette collided with a girl sneaking past them.

"Galinda?"

"Honey, I got your coat." The munchkin froze as half a dozen sets of eyes swung to him.

"Boq?" Nessa's jaw dropped.

The blonde staring open-mouthed at the group cleared her throat. "Um, I can explain."


	16. My Perfect Little Punching Bag

AN: A short chapter, I know, but it was too much to cram into the other ones. Thanks again for reading.

* * *

><p>Boq's arm slid from Galinda's shoulder like a wet noodle, and her coat flopped unceremoniously to the ground.<p>

"See, when he said honey, what he meant was-"

Elphaba huffed a sigh. "Oh, give it a rest already. Everybody knows now, and thank Oz it was before anyone got hurt." She shot a meaningful look at Fiyero, and he felt the back of his neck warm.

"Knows?" Nessa's blood pressure no doubt rose by the second. "Knows what?"

"That's a dumb question." Avaric eyed her sideways and jerked a thumb at the pair under scrutiny. "That blondie's screwing the munchkin."

Galinda jutted her chin forward. "I most certainly am not. Boq, I mean, Biq is, um-"

"You knew?" Nessa spun on Elphaba, who looked taken aback.

"Well, yeah. She's my roommate."

"I'm your sister!" She slapped her napkin down on the table. "I can't believe you would side with that, that _trollop_ over me!"

Elphaba leaned back. "Okay, first, Galinda's my friend, and yours, too, if you'll pause to remember. She set you up with Boq in the first place."

"Oh, so she can take him whenever-"

"And," Elphaba continued, louder now, over her sister, "I'm not siding with anyone. You're here with someone else, remember?"

"No thanks to you. If it were up to you I'd be locked in a box my whole life cause it's safer."

Elphaba flung a hand palm up. "How did I turn into the bad guy in this?"

"You're always the bad guy, aren't you? Your whole life is just wicked. I bet this whole dinner was a rouse to get me here and see them. Well, too bad. I'm not breaking up with Liam, and I'm not talking to you again for as long as I live!" Nessa whirled to the shocked boy on her left. "Liam, take me home please."

"You're being ridiculous," Elphaba fought to keep her voice even. "Can you just calm down and talk about things for once, instead of flying off the handle?"

"Liam!" Nessa wheeled toward the entrance in sharp, angry strokes. He gathered their belongings and trailed after her, offering an apologetic shrug in parting.

"What by Kumbricia was that?" Avaric's wide eyes followed the pair. "No offense, Thropp, but your sister is straight up nuts."

Boq let out a long-suffering sigh. "That's Nessa for you."

Elphaba scrubbed a hand over her face. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to get some air." She made a beeline for the exit, eyes trained on the floorboards.

"Yeah, me, too." He caught Elphaba's hand by the door. "If you give me a minute, I'll walk with you back."

He darted back in without waiting for her answer. If she wanted to leave, pushing wouldn't help. His apology to Tavon went smoothly, especially since Elphaba had stopped him from really doing anything stupid. With another apology to his friend's date, he was more than ready to leave this restaurant behind.

The others had gone by the time he jogged back. His face fell at the empty doorway, but before he reached the street she was by his side. "You're in one piece still. Must have talked your way out alright."

He caught her hand. "And you?"

"You mean since I'm the world's punching bag now?" She gave a dismissive wave she didn't really mean. "Fine."

"A punching bag sure sounds good right now, though."

She gave him a rueful smile. "Is that right?"

"Not you. At least not as the bag." He ran his eyes over her, taking in the delicate dress that cinched her waist but bared her arms. "You're not exactly dressed for it, but I think we could manage, if you want."

"Are you serious?"

"Are you?"

"Let's go beat the stuffing out of something."

They headed straight to the gym and signed out the weight room key despite the odd looks for their dressy attire. He draped his blazer on the weight bench as she kicked off her heels.

"Not how I pictured this night going."

He huffed a laugh. "Oh? Big plans with your fake boyfriend?"

"Oz, at least I'm done with that."

He rolled up his sleeves and rotated his shoulders. The wraps and gloves were another delay, but he'd learned the hard way how necessary. He tested a few light punches, and the bag gave a series of pops that almost immediately soothed his nerves.

Elphaba perched on another bench and watched him as he started to warm up into the workout. He should be explaining or letting her try, but the feel of physically expressing some of his pent-up frustration was too alluring.

He hit the bag in short combinations, the staccato smacks of leather on leather smoothing his thoughts. A sheen of sweat made his dress shirt stick unpleasantly to his back by the time he slowed. He let out a long, unsteady breath and rolled his neck.

"Better?"

He glanced up at Elphaba. "Yeah."

"Done monopolizing the catharsis then?"

He grinned and tossed her some gloves. Wrapping her wrists was much more pleasant than doing his own, and he let himself check his work perhaps a bit more than necessary. She tugged on the gloves and tapped them together.

"Know how to punch?" She aimed a hard jab at the bag and smirked. "I'll take that as a yes. Ever use a bag?"

She shook her head.

"Alright, try to punch the bag, not push it. You want a slap, not a thud." He nodded toward the bag, and she tried a couple hits. "Not bad. Watch your wrist.

She didn't need much coaching, and they fell into an easy rhythm. "Breathe," he reminded, and she steadied the technique. He tried to imagine what her endurance would have been like when they'd started. She'd come a long way. "Too bad that's not on your final tomorrow."

She swiped a glove over the hair creeping toward her eyes. "Yep, that helps me relax alright."

"You'll be great." She tugged off the gloves, and he passed her a paper cup of water. "You're one tough girl, Thropp. Not a test made that you can't crush."

She downed the water and tossed the cup in the trash. "Not looking forward to those shoes again."

"Want me to carry you?" He flashed her a grin as he retrieved the jacket and heels.

She tucked a hip forward. "And if I say yes?" He held out an arm, and she laughed, a raucous cackle at complete odds to the demur giggles from his frustratingly clingy date. Even more than the bag, that soothed his nerves.

"If you change your mind…" She took her heels, and he splashed some water over his palms, face and hair.

Her breath came out in a long sigh. "Can we just stay here?"

"You want to stay in the room that smells like old jock straps?"

She bit her lip and edged closer, the heels clinking lightly together as she fidgeted. "Maybe."

He feigned a casual air he didn't feel. "If you want a punching bag that much, I volunteer. But we'll need a lot of pillows, some tape, and a nice hot shower."

"Tempting."

He flashed a grin. "To which part."

She leaned close, and the air between them electrified. She pressed a fleeting kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Yero." Before he could react, she slipped off to buckle the straps of her heels. "I guess let's go."

He walked her home with a light banter flowing easily between them.

"At least Nessa got her double date." Elphaba let out a wry laugh. "Too bad we didn't even get to the appetizers."

"We'll do better next time," Fiyero promised, hoping she would pick up his meaning. She ducked her face, and he let his hand brush hers. "Want me to come by for breakfast?"

"Nah. I won't be able to eat."

"So yes. You'll do better if you give yourself some energy to work with."

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Until I hurl all over Bidsk."

He rolled his eyes. "You won't. Seven sharp. I'm still your coach until this is over."

"Yeah, yeah. Seven."

"And no sleeping in, Thropp." She shot him a look, and his face split into a grin. Punctual to a fault, she'd never been the one late for their sessions. He squeezed her hand, "But do sleep. No excuses."

With heavy feet, he made himself leave.

She seemed as reluctant as he did. He wondered, if he'd asked, would she have let him stay to help her fall asleep? Contrary to his own advice, he tossed in bed thinking about it, thinking about tomorrow, and wishing he could do something.


	17. Run My Heart

The early morning sun found Fiyero dressed and halfway across campus before he would've opened his eyes a few months ago. Birds tweeted in the stillness, and he drew in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air.

Elphaba stretched by the bench. She nodded a greeting.

"Did you sleep?"

She heaved a sigh.

"Eat breakfast yet?"

"I will." He leveled a look. "After the run. I didn't want to belate. Coach's orders and all." At his narrowed eyes, she huffed a laugh. "Besides, it'll save the third degree on what I ate, and how much, and-"

"Okay, wise guy, take it easy today. A light run to keep your stress down. I don't want you overworking yourself."

"Then don't run so fast I can't keep up."

"Sorry, Thropp, I guess I can walk while we get you some skates or something." Still, he kept them to an easy jog that wound up at the cafeteria.

The fruit stolen from her plate always tasted better, so he loaded up her tray for her. "You expect me to eat all that?" She held up one of the three muffins. "I'll roll off the track."

"Carbs are good before a workout." He snatched the muffin and took a large bite. "I'll finish what you don't want. But eat."

She grimaced and forced herself to take a bite of the apple. "How do you eat all this?"

"Practice." He liberated the disfavored apple, and handed her a banana. "You need more potassium."

"Wow, a four-syllable word, and it's not even noon."

He nudged her toward the fruit.

Eyes rolled skyward, she peeled the banana.

Despite the light banter, he could feel her tension. She finished her breakfast in relative quiet, and he tried to think of some teasing reassurance for her. At a loss, he took her hand, and they walked to the gym as if to war.

Once they arrived, she dropped his hand and ducked into the girls' locker room to change, and Fiyero ran a hand through his carefully careless hair.

"Where is she?" Galinda breezed into the corridor, dragging Boq in her wake. "Has she already started? We came to wish her luck."

"She's changing."

The blonde barged into the dressing room, and the door clicked shut behind her. Boq sent Fiyero an awkward nod, which he returned. "Good weather."

"Yeah. Not bad."

"Should make the run better. Not too hot."

"True."

Exhausted of topics, they stared at the door. It opened, and Galinda trailed her roommate like a baby duck. "You'll be wonderful. You've been working so hard, I know Bidsk is going to pass you with flying colors."

She chuckled at her roommate. "Is that a pun?"

"Oh, Elphie, it's called a punt. You already did that sport, remember?"

"You can stop encouraging me. I'm convinced."

Blonde curls bobbled as she fell forward. "Oh, thank goodness." As Boq pulled open the door to the gym, Liam and Nessa tried to come through the opposite direction.

"Sorry, I-"

But he cut off as Nessa wheeled over his foot with a spiteful glare. Elphaba took an unconscious step to the side. "I thought you weren't coming."

"And miss your big day?" Liam took her hand, which she yanked away. "Of course not."

"I'm here for Liam." Nessa pursed her cool lips. "He wanted to cheer you on, and I'm a supportive girlfriend, so I'll cheer you on, too, I guess."

"How thoughtful," Elphaba's tone was dry. "I'd better get going. No point cheering me on if I never make it to the test."

The others drifted toward the bleachers, but Fiyero hung back. "You've got this." Her nod was brusque, annoyed at all encouragement. "Say the word, and I'll drag them all out of here. Galinda might put up a fight, but I hear scars are sexy."

She cackled despite herself. "Go sit down. If you need any scars, I'll be happy to provide them myself."

"Is that right?" He waggled his eyebrows, and she shoved him away.

"You know what I mean. Go."

Bidsk waited by the benches on the far side, and at her entrance, he looked up. "Bout time, Thropp. Let's see some hustle."

She jogged out to join her classmates, several goggling at Fiyero. He must have ruffled his hair too artfully today.

"Today's flexibility, aerobic, and body composition, and before you ladies get huffy, take it up with the Wizard. It's an all-Ozian mandate, so yes, I will be weighing you." He glared around, expecting outrage, but most of the girls ignored him to giggle at Fiyero. "Tomorrow's your strength and endurance tests. Okay, flexibility first. Do some warm up stretches, and we'll start in five."

Fiyero went to help Elphaba stretch her hamstrings. "Nice easy start today."

"Except the aerobics." She rotated her shoulders. "At least I'll have the easy ones out of the way."

"And my favorite." He winked, but she didn't respond. "Luck." She nodded from her position upside down, stretching her back, and he retreated to the bleachers.

Her sister's unwavering glower at the blonde tempted him to avoid the disaster brewing there, but Galinda waved him over. He dutifully sat beside her. "Sorry about Nessa. She'll come around."

"Thanks. Listen…"

He edged back. Did she expect him to talk to Nessa? He didn't think it would do any good.

"I know."

A stab of dread raced through him. How did she find out? He'd been careful not to show his feelings for Elphaba in public. His hypocritical annoyance with her and Tavon seemed to slap him in the face. "I-"

"You know, what you said. To Tavon. In the restaurant." She pressed her lips together, and then took his hand. "Thank you."

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? At you for defending me? I'm not Elphie." They shared a fond chuckle. "No, it was very sweet of you. Not accurate, but sweet." She squeezed his hand. "And I heard what you said about me being your friend. I mean, I know you've said it before, but I finally heard it. I want us to be friends. So," she drew a dramatic breath, "I forgive you for breaking up with me."

He fought a laugh with a solemn nod. "Thank you. That's very goodly of you."

Her answering smile made him remember past days, and a weight on his shoulders lifted. Until he remembered what he'd dreaded. Did he dare risk things when they'd just made up?

"Hey, can I ask you something? Now that we're friends again?"

"Of course I'll help you fix your hair! I didn't know how to tell you it's been horrendible. Oh, Fifi!"

Galinda tackled him in a hug, and Nessa leaned forward to hiss shrilly at them. "Get a room, you tramp. You're blocking the way."

The blonde snapped up with a glare, but Fiyero nodded toward the gym floor. "Has she gone yet?"

Liam shook his head. "But they're next, I think."

Elphaba's row stepped forward, and she drew a calming breath. She stretched forward as she let it out, lengthening back and arms as they'd practiced. Bidsk and his assistant marked them off on the lined paper, and after the three repetitions, the girls stood.

"That looked good, right?"

Fiyero nodded absently at Liam. "From here at least." Elphaba shook out the stiffness in her neck and arms, rotating her shoulders with a nervous energy. "These are harder to tell 'til it's over. Can't read your own marks."

The girls started the shoulder stretches. Elphaba reached her right hand over her shoulder and the other toward it from behind. Her fingertips touched, and Bidsk's pen whisked a check mark on her form. She reversed hands.

Her fingers crept together with more difficulty, earning each inch. Her hand fell a quarter inch shy. With her tension working against her, she struggled to move any closer. Bidsk marked an X, but she let out a deep breath and forced her hands to cover the distance. He shook his head, but scratched out the X for another checkmark.

Fiyero let out the breath he'd been holding and flashed Elphaba a grin.

"Alright ladies, we're weighing you out here. No exceptions. Aguire, you're up."

The girls formed in a line, and a short, roundish brunette sidled toward the front. The female coach slid a measuring tape around the girl's waist, then hips. Bidsk recorded her weight and height, and sent her off.

Fiyero watched the line move with minimal interest. Elphaba should have no problems with this test, though he'd tried to convince her to let him measure her hips, you know, just to be safe.

Measurements recorded, Elphaba jogged over to swig at her water. Her friends ringed around her, all save Nessa. "You're doing so great. I just know you're going to ace-ify this test."

Elphaba flashed a thin smile at her roommate. "I haven't even done anything yet." She suffered through their encouragements well, hiding in her water until she'd drunk it all. "I'll be back. Bathroom." He shot her a suspicious look, and she flipped up a palm. "Can't focus on running if I need to pee."

"It might make you run faster." That earned the munchkin a swat on the arm from his new girlfriend, but Fiyero laughed.

"Awful technique, though. Better go while you can."

Liam cleared his throat. "I need to use the facilities as well. Mind if I walk back with you?" Elphaba gave a half-shrug and started toward the locker rooms with him trailing behind.

The others went back to the bleachers to meet Nessa, her lips pursed. "Where's Liam?"

"In the bathroom, why?"

"Can you help me down?" He considered refusing after how she'd treated Elphaba, but he lifted her into her chair. She wheeled off toward the bathrooms. After a moment of hesitation, Fiyero followed, if nothing else than to buffer whatever trouble she had brewing.

They turned the corner, and Nessa gasped. Liam's hand rested on Elphaba's arm, his face tilted for a kiss that by her glower, she clearly intended to keep him from delivering. "-surely must have realized."

Elphaba jerked away. "Feelings that are not returned."

"Liam!"

The boy jolted, a hand toward his girlfriend. "I can explain…"

"You disgusting cad, get out of my sight."

"But-"

"Now!" she shrieked, wheeling toward him with an intimidating fury. Fiyero imagined those wheels could do some damage. Liam must have felt likewise, because he fled past them and out of the gym.

Elphaba turned to her sister, a sympathetic hand out. "Are you alright?"

"Save it. I hope you're happy now. You were right. You proved it. You stole my boyfriend, and you didn't even want him."

His jaw dropped. "Wait, are you seriously blaming her for this? She told you up front about him. You're the one who didn't listen."

"Butt out, Fiyero." She swung back to Elphaba. "Ugh, you ruin everything. I hate you! Why did you even have to come here? I would have been just fine without you. You always have to butt in where you're not wanted. Why don't you just go away?"

She spun around so fast her elbow slammed into Fiyero's arm, and he rubbed the spot absently. Elphaba for her part stood there looking like a breeze would blow her over.

"She's not wrong."

"Of course she is." He clasped both her hands to him. "She completely is."

"No, she's not. I just make her life worse."

"She makes her own life worse." His hand flung back in a dismissive wave. "You've done nothing but protect her, and she insisted on not listening. This is not your fault. It's Liam. It's hers. But it's not yours."

"Elphie?" Galinda rushed into the hall. "They're going to start the aerobic test."

"Okay, thanks." She trudged out to the track as Bidsk outlined the test.

"Half-mile walking first, then your mile run. When you're done, check out with me before you leave."

Fiyero helped her stretch, reminding her to relax her arms and straighten her back and anything else that might distract her from Nessa. The others picked up her mood and fell silent.

"Don't let this get in your head." He walked her onto the track. "Pretend I'm running with you. No Nessa. No test. Just us."

A shrill tone from the whistle, and they were off. She started at a brisk walk, good form, good breathing. She'd pass the minimum with no problem, but a four-minute mile was tough. It was basically a sprint. And if she wanted her A, she'd have to make it, or very close.

Galinda gripped his arm as Elphaba started to run. "She seems pretty fast."

He nodded. "Maybe a little too fast." But if she slowed now, it could work against her.

She spurred herself to more speed with each lap, and he knew she had to be close to her limit. Her face tinted red, her breathing sharp despite the rhythm she struggled to maintain. She reached the last stretch, and hurled forward with an unsustainable burst of speed.

"Come on." He willed her to keep the momentum. She'd lost her form, throwing every ounce of energy at it with abandon.

Galinda's fingernails dug into his arm, but he barely noticed. "Oz." He felt each step with her until she blazed through the finish and collapsed forward with hands planted on knees. "That was so excitifying!"

He jogged up, and pulled her upright. "Cool down."

Elphaba panted at him, her face communicating the argument she couldn't get air to speak.

"You've got more tomorrow. You can't afford to be sore. Let's go."

She panted a distressed, exhausted look that broke his heart, but staggered forward in a pathetic jog.

"That's right, come on." He set the pace, gradually slowing. "You did great."

"Fi-ve, sev-en-teen," she puffed, "Not…four."

"Still good." He knew she must be disappointed. "Couldn't have done that before."

Her expression flickered into a thoughtful smile. "True."

"Hands up." She pushed her hands above her head and slowed to a walk as they reached the halfway point. "Don't look now, but I think you might be an athlete."

"We'll see," she let out short, controlled breaths, "tomorrow."

"Must have a good coach."

"Nah." He shot her a sideways look, but she grinned. "But he has his strengths."


	18. My Feet No Longer Run

The morning found Elphaba no less jittery than the previous. He pushed down a bittersweet realization of his last day as her coach with false cheer. "Graduation Day, Thropp."

She rolled her eyes. "It's only one class."

Ignoring her, he intoned, "Ladies and gentleman, may I present the inaugural class of Intro to Athleticism?" She snorted. "The skills and knowledge you have learned in these hallowed halls, um, courts, shall carry with you for-"

"Never," she scoffed, and he forced an affronted look. "Fine. Forever," she mocked. "You've made me a faux jock. Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But I have been changed for the sweatier."

He burst out a laugh, and they started their jog. "Last day. At least now you can sleep in every morning."

"You mean _you_ can sleep in."

He nudged her shoulder. "Well, yes, but you can study or whatever instead."

She shrugged, eyes ahead on the path, "I was thinking I might keep jogging. It's not as bad as it used to be." Her eyes flicked to his and back. "But you don't-"

"Of course I'll come."

She hid her smile in eying their surroundings. "I thought you didn't see daylight until noon. In fact, I'm shocked you've been able to meet me everyday."

He shrugged. "Good motivation."

"Do you parents know about your extra credit, or are you passing your good grades off as repentance?"

He let her feign misunderstanding. "Why? Going to turn me in?"

"And risk getting caught in the blast? No thanks. Your secret is safe with me."

He chuckled. "Nah, they know. But I have done better, actually." Her nod was perfunctory, as if she expected no less. They reached the cafeteria, and he led her up the broad cobblestone. "However, Miss Elphaba" he held open the door with a grandiose wave, "today we're focused on your achievements, not mine."

She wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather we didn't."

"Why not?" He gathered their usual trays. "You've accomplished a great deal. You should be proud."

"I am. And grateful." The soft smile melted into his memory, but too soon it faded. "But I've still got a long way to go. My sprint was too long yesterday, and I've got the hardest tests left. Even with the retests, I'd have to nail everything today to get an A."

His face sank in a frown. "Tell me you didn't spend all night calculating potential outcomes." She shifted in her chair. "What did I tell you? That stuff doesn't help. All it does is psych you out. Focus on what's in front of you."

"My breakfast?" she shot back with a smirk.

"Wise ass."

"Learned from the best."

He stole her apple. "Hey, don't blame me for that. You were just as snarky before we started."

"Fair enough." They finished their breakfast with amicable small talk and headed toward the gym. With half the test behind her, he felt more a crushing sense of finality than a worry for her success.

As they turned the corner toward the gym entrance, he caught her arm. "Hey, before we go in there, I just want you to know-"

But her gaze wasn't on him.

Her sister's wheelchair blocked one of the doors into the gym. He braced for the fallout, a hand on Elphaba's elbow.

"Fabala. I-" She wheeled closer when Elphaba didn't move. "I'm so sorry."

He let go of her arm so she could move to kneel in front of her sister. "Oh, Nessie, so am I."

"You were right about him, and I- You're always right. You were right about Boq, Galinda, Liam, all of it." Nessa cast her eyes up, blinking back tears, and Elphaba took her hands in her own.

"He isn't worth it. You deserve better."

"I'm sorry I blamed you. You can't help if no one can stand to be with me."

"Don't be ridiculous." Elphaba shook her sister's arm before the self-pity could reach too far. "You have me. Always will. Who needs a boyfriend?"

"Easy for you to say." Her brown eyes flicked back to him, so similar to her sister's, but fortunately Elphaba's didn't seem to understand her implications. "I said such horrible things. Even when I was mad, I just…I wish I could take them back. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Having some slight experience with a temper, perhaps I can empathize." Her love for her sister shone through the sarcasm, and he couldn't help wondering what she would have done to anyone else in the same position. Definitely not such an easy forgiveness, that was for sure.

He cleared his throat. "We'd better get you inside."

Nessa wheeled back an inch. "Would you mind? I'd like to watch if that's still okay."

"Don't be stupid." Elphaba squeezed her hand fondly.

Fiyero led her to the sidelines where Galinda and Boq already waited. "Galinda," the brunette offered lukewarm civilly. "Boq."

The blonde met his eyes, and he shrugged. "Um, that's a lovely dress, Nessa." Boq wisely stayed out of the conversation, and in a couple minutes, most of the frost had thawed. Tavon appeared after a minute to clasp hands with Fiyero.

"What're you doing here?"

"Forgot the gym was closed this morning for this test, and since I was here anyway, thought I'd see how your girl does."

When Elphaba returned in her gym attire, Fiyero excused himself. "Ready?"

"Or not, here we are."

He took in the various mats and bars moved onto the floor since yesterday. "Okay, so pushups, crunches and pull-ups?"

"Oh my," she deadpanned.

"You'll be fine. Try to do the crunches in the middle, if he gives you an option. Rest your arms."

Bidsk and the other coaches came out to review the stations. Her row had crunches first, so she crossed the gym to the mats on the far side.

The coach tapped his stopwatch, and Elphaba flung herself into several quick, harsh crunches. Fiyero winced at the form, but after about a dozen, she reset to the straight back they'd worked on.

"Time."

Galinda leaned over, "Did you count?" His head fell back. "Yeah, I forgot, too."

"I think she did fine, though."

The pushups were strong as well, until she faltered in the last twenty seconds, her wrist turned at a sharp angle. She pushed through, but she winced when she stood, her wrist in her other hand. He reached her side in a flash.

"Alright?"

"Yeah. My wrist," she stared at the offending joint. "I think I turned it funny."

He took her hand in his hands, bending her wrist and testing it for range. She grimaced, but at least it had full mobility. "Come on. I'll tape it."

He got Bidsk's attention, and nodded toward the boys' locker rooms. The man waved him off, and they headed toward his locker. Elphaba sat on the bench in the center as he entered his combination. "It's not what I expected in here."

"Oh?"

"I figured it would be like the girls'."

"And it isn't?"

"No, it's…little. More like the weight room, I guess."

He chuckled as he wrapped the tape in a spiral around her wrist. "Well, we don't need as much mirror space as the girls."

She scoffed, "I don't know about that. How else will Avaric fully appreciate his hair?"

"Done." He bent her wrist forward and back, convinced that it was secure enough. "How's that feel?"

She swiveled her wrist. "Better. Thanks."

He turned back to his locker to replace the supplies, and she stood up. She took a hesitant step toward him. "Yero?"

"Huh?"

When she didn't answer, he turned around, and she pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. "Really."

He cupped her cheek and ran a thumb over her lips lightly. "Anytime."

For a frozen moment they stood there, eyes on the others lips in a mental kiss if not a physical one. But this wasn't the time. After waiting this long, he wanted better for them than a kiss in the boys' locker room while she worried over her final. "Come on. Let's get out there before you miss your final and undo all my hard work."

"_Your_ hard work…"

He walked her over to the pull-up bar. As she joined the line, she rolled her shoulders and neck, sizing it up. She fought the intimidation with a lifted chin and an analytical eye.

On her turn, the spotter lifted her to grab the bar. She spaced her hands well, and he hoped the wrapping helped the strain on her wrist. In time with her breaths, she lowered herself down and back up. Though a little shaky, he couldn't help but be proud of her form.

Another dip, and another, and a fourth. She made it to six, a record for her, before time ran out. She let go, and he met her at the floor.

"Six," she groused, with a wrinkled nose.

"I saw." He squeezed her shoulder. "New record."

"But just over half what I needed."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Pessimist. How's your wrist?" She gave a dismissive wave. "Good. One part left."

"For our endurance run, we've always been content to run laps." Bidsk gave a hassled sigh. "But this year, in the interest of … "interest", first you'll run a mile on the track," he nodded behind him. "Then, that obstacle course," a nod to the left this time. "Out through Suicide Canal for you cross-country runners," a nod to the right. "Then back through the obstacles and a last mile round the track. Whole thing tags out at 4.86 miles. Got it?"

The girls looked between each other with worried, confused faces.

"Follow the yellow chalk route," one of the female coaches offered with a benevolent smile.

Nessa frowned. 'That seems very involved for a final."

"The new coach's plan," Boq nodded toward the beaming coach gesturing to the yellow line. "She's still young and excited to teach everything she learned at university, or so Milla's complained." Fiyero shot him a look, and the munchkin tugged at his collar. "To Galinda, of course. Not to me."

Tavon held back a laugh, "I'm sure Bidsk loves that. He's always been the height of progressive."

"They'll do most of the running out to the Canal."

"A third," Boq corrected Fiyero automatically, but no one paid attention.

"I don't think they usually have spectators," Tavon pointed out gently.

Elphaba took her place on the track, rolling her shoulders and neck. "Yay, Elphie!" Galinda shouted, and her roommate blushed even as she glared.

The coach blew a whistle, and though many girls shot out ahead of her, she kept to a pace that she could maintain. Sprinting never worked out for long runs until the end. Her first mile seemed to breeze by, and she headed toward the obstacle course.

"She's doing well so far, right?" Galinda asked, worrying her thumb. "I mean, she's in the middle. That's not bad."

He grunted an affirmation. A short wall, barely three feet, started the obstacles. She swung herself over without hassle, her lanky frame working in her advantage.

He expected the staggered tires to slow her, but she breezed through as if practiced. She seemed to sprint between obstacles as the others slowed, but they still wore away at her pace. Smooth and steady. That's what they'd worked on. How could a rope line not interrupt her pace?

She'd reached the last section of the obstacle course, an Over-Under-Through section of low walls and tubes that would be murder on her upper body. But she pushed through the last tunnel, propelling herself upright and down the chalk line.

He couldn't take it. Watching and helpless. Without thinking, Fiyero jogged out to meet her, matching her pace. "Reset your form."

Her head whipped around and then forward again. "What're you doing?"

"Out for a jog. Thought I'd get a little fresh air. You?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know, this 'coaching' is a little obsessive."

"Relax your shoulders. You're through the obstacles. Think pace and distance."

"Are you seriously going to jog with me? Isn't that…cheating or something?"

"How? Am I going to run for you?" She barked a laugh. "Besides, Suicide Canal is in bounds for any Shiz student, right?"

"Oz, you're incorrigible."

He noticed how little her breath faltered despite their conversation. "You're doing well with your pacing."

"I'm trying to save it for the end." He nodded. "But I might push it. I feel like those tunnels slowed me down."

"That's what they're for." The route led them up a slope at the edge of campus, and Fiyero pushed the pace. "Lean into the slope." His eyes swiveled from the hill ahead and her behind. "Let your arms help."

They reached the crest, and he cautioned, "Now don't lean back into the hill, lengthen your stride. Let gravity help." She fought it, trying to stay in control. "Let it go. I know it feels too fast, but you're not. You won't fall."

They were almost to the canal already, and none of the coach spotters had call foul on Fiyero's hasty decision to join her.

"It's pretty out here," Elphaba let out a puff of air. "I forget."

"We could do our run here tomorrow. Down by the water."

"No day off, Coach?"

He shook his head. "No rest for the wicked. Or their pupils."

"Oh, please. We both know I'm the wicked one. You're only sinful."

"Am I?" He flashed a cocky grin.

"You know what I mean."

"'Fraid I don't. Watch the leaves," he cautioned, and they slowed slightly to over the slippery surface to keep better traction. "Both sound fun."

"Right. Not Unionist." She lengthened her stride to catch up to him. "You're hedonistic, but not a monster."

His forehead crumpled in a frown. "And you think you-"

"It was a joke."

"Well it's not funny."

"Clearly, if I have to, explain it this much." They'd reached the low bridge over the canal, and the yellow chalk wound over the grey brick in a U-turn. "Finally. Half-way."

"Elphaba-"

"Don't." She dodged a branch. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"But-"

"Aren't you supposed to help me focus?"

"Fine. Keep up." He upped the pace to push the edge for her without tiring her prematurely. They ran through this half of the forest along the water's edge in companionable quiet. The water lapped lightly in time to the slap of their feet on the pressed dirt path.

"So peaceful here," he breathed after a long minute.

"Yeah."

"Almost sad to see Shiz over that hill."

"Says the one without a final."

She powered over the hill and down the slope, skidding over leaves like she had been born to run. He couldn't help but feel so proud of her. "Alright, careful on the obstacles. You're tired now. Don't fight then, work with it, like the hill."

"Right. The wall wants to help."

He nudged her arm and veered off as they reached the track. The others shared a collective look as he appeared. "What?"

"Nothing." Galinda swallowed a giggle.

"No, what?" Nessa lifted an eyebrow, their observation obvious. "Okay, fine. I couldn't take the waiting. I know, I know, I'm obsessive and impatient, and Elphaba already let me know how brainless and foolish I am, alright?"

"Of course she did." Nessa hid a smile.

"Just…focus on Elphaba."

She was working her way backwards through the course, though her fatigue was apparent. She did her best to follow his advice, hurling herself through the tunnels and swinging over or under walls. The tires slowed her this time, and the flung herself over the final wall.

She stumbled toward the track. Though he hadn't run half of what she had, he was acutely aware of how tired she must feel. She forced herself to keep pace with her legs, but her energy was flagging fast. "Form!" he shouted, and she unclenched her fists with a deep breath in.

The last lap now. She pushed herself forward. Legs pumping, she stretched her stride. The last bend. He forced deep even breaths as if he could breathe for her now. Almost there.

And with another few moments, she had crossed the line. She had finished.

She started the cool down without him this time, though she walked toward them instead of around the track. Face flushed and hair plastered against her forehead, she was so beautiful he couldn't fight a grin. He met her a few yards from the others in the grass. "You did it. You're finished."

She let her shoulders slump and grinned. "Thank Oz." Then she lowered her hands from her head. "And thank you, Yero." She bit her lip, and tentatively took his hand. "I honestly could not have done it without you."

"You could've."

"Not in thirty-eight minutes and twenty seconds."

He fought the overwhelming urge to spin her in a hug. "That's great."

"It is. It gets me a B."

His grin fell, and he waited for the disappointment to wash over her face. "B?"

"Yep. So relieved, you can't imagine." Then she laughed. "Well, I guess you could."

"Hey, be nice."

She squeezed his hand. "Seriously. I never thought I'd pass. I think my grades can survive a B."

"I think your grades could survive the Apocalypse."

As they reached the others, Fiyero started to let go of her hand, but Elphaba held tight. He glanced over in surprise, but her eyes were trained on the others, her mouth a thin line.

"You did it!" Galinda shrieked, leaping toward her roommate for a bouncy hug, until her eyes fell to their joined hands.

Elphaba's gaze flicked from her roommate to their hands and back tentatively, but she tugged him closer. "We did it. Really, more Fiyero did."

"Oh, whatever." He knocked against her shoulder. "Don't be humble."

"Me?" she cackled. "Humble?"

"So…" Galinda's gaze fell on their hands again. "Any other news?"

Elphaba bit her lip. "I don't think it's really news."

Galinda paused, considering, and then managed a tense, but honest smile. "Oh, Elphie!" She flung her arms around them. "I'm so happy for you both. Surprised. Very surprised, really. But, I guess happy for you."

"Are you?" Elphaba managed, worry creasing her face.

"Well, sure. I mean, I'm with Boqy now, and I want you both to be happy. I guess, you might as well be happy together. I mean, I'm not thrillified, but I guess I'm not mad."

The tension in Elphaba deflated, and she dropped his hand to return Galinda's hug, if a little awkwardly still. They stepped back just as Coach Bidsk walked by, inadvertently drawing all their eyes.

He looked them over, Elphaba's arms now crossed over her body. "Thirty-eight, huh?"

She nodded stiffly, and Fiyero set a warm hand on her shoulder. "Yep. Obstacles and all."

The coach let out a heavy sigh. "Fine, she can have her A." Shocked, Elphaba murmured her thanks, which the coach waved it off as he head back toward the gym, grumbling something about "Women."

Galinda managed to wait until the coach got around the corner before squealing, "Elphieeeeee!"

Shocked, she just grinned as he took her hand and pulled her into his side. "See? Told you I'd make you a jock."

"So," Tavon interrupted. "Where are we celebrating?"

Unsurprisingly, Elphaba vetoed most of ideas for how to celebrate, though he managed to convince her to at least let them all have dinner together. Tavon disappeared to meet his girlfriend, and Boq and Galinda left early for their own plans, agreeing to drop Nessa along the way. Which left Fiyero and Elphaba free to stroll languidly without any real destination in mind.

"Elphaba Thropp, the athlete. Who'd have imagined?"

She elbowed him lightly. "Yes. Next you'll be reciting the Pythagorean Theorem at parties."

He caught her hand and stroked a thumb over her fingers. "If it'll get me more time with you, in a heartbeat." She smiled, suddenly fascinated with the sidewalk. "So." He cleared his throat. "I guess everyone knows now."

"Knows?"

He tugged her closer and brushed a kiss over their knuckles.

She jutted her chin forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh don't you?" He pulled her closer. "Perhaps I'll just have to show you."

The kiss was light. Prepared this time against the electricity of her lips, he managed to keep himself in control. "So what time should I meet you tomorrow?"

"For?"

"Our run." He swung their joined hands lightly.

"If I say same time, will I face a riot?" He made a face. "I need to get some work done, and I like to start early."

"Fine," he heaved in a heavy sigh he didn't mean. "But you're buying me breakfast."

"Don't I always?"

He feigned a shocked expression. "Never. Is it my fault that your food would rather go home with me?"

"Just remember you can't boss me around anymore." She stabbed a finger into his shoulder, and he laughed.

"Now you just sound ridiculous. Who would believe _I_ boss around _you_?"

"Liar! You know you do. Faster. Slower. Stretch more."

"You mean, coaching?"

She snorted. "If that's what you're calling it."

He spun her to face him. "Trust me, if I were bossing you around, you'd be wearing far less clothing and seeing much more of my bedroom." She blushed, and he kicked himself. "Too soon?"

"To see your bedroom? I believe so," she answered drily, but her smirk softened the tone.

"Aw, come on. I'd have figured you've spent so much time there now, it's almost like home."

"There's no place like home."

"If you say so." He led them across the garden toward Crage Hall. "Speaking of home, break's coming up. Shall I tell my parents I'm bringing someone?"

She frowned. "I…don't know. I should probably ask my father. Or at least Nessa."

"Aw, come on," he pouted, tugging her into his side. "Don't you want to vacation in a desert?" She lifted an eyebrow. "With yours truly?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"I thought selling bad ideas was your strong suit."

He stepped in front of her and looped an arm around her waist. "Oh, I have to sell you, do I?" She bit her lip. "Well, it's a big castle. With lots of books, and gardens." He dipped his forehead to hers, his nose trailing over hers. "And privacy."

"I have books here."

His lips found the corner of hers. "But do you have my siblings who have untold amounts of embarrassing dirt on my childhood?"

"When do we leave?"

They reached her dorm, and he let her go reluctantly. As much as he wanted her, he had learned his lessons about pushing too fast. "See you tomorrow."

She stretched her arms around his neck with all the flexibility he'd taught her and grinned. "Is that really how you're going to tell me goodnight? Don't you know who I am? I'm a famous athlete now, or haven't you heard."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and as such, I am entitled to certain luxuries."

"Is that so?" She nodded solemnly, and he matched her feigned seriousness. "Such high expectations to live up to. I hope I won't disappoint."

"Don't worry." She patted his shoulder. "I know a good coach."

* * *

><p>AN: A long chapter, I know, but finally the end. I'm not sure how I feel about it, after a couple years writing this. Please let me know what you think, and if you'd be interested in a sequel on their trip to the Vinkus. Thank you for reading, and for all of you who took the time to review, favorite, or subscribe.<p> 


	19. AlternateDeleted Scene

Alternate/Deleted Scene:

"_And no sleeping in, Thropp." She shot him a look, and his face split into a grin. Punctual to a fault, she'd never been the one late for their sessions. He squeezed her hand, "But do sleep. No excuses."_

She shifted in the low light. "I'll try."

He narrowed his eyes. "Try?" She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and he shook his head. "Alright, come on."

Her forehead wrinkled to match her frown.

"I'll tuck you in."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that so?"

He mimicked her crossed arm stance. "You need rest, and I know you. You'll find a way to stay up all night worrying and analyzing everything."

"So you just invite yourself in my bedroom?"

"Or mine." He flashed a grin. "Though I won't promise to lend you pajamas."

She rolled her eyes. "Oz, I can't believe I'm saying this, but come up."

Honestly, he couldn't believe it either. She must have been more nervous than he thought.

"Maybe I'll take you up on the pillow punching bag."

He brushed a hand over her arm. "You're welcome to it."

With her help, he easily snuck into the girls' dorm and up the stairs to her room. He covered his eyes, but the click of the door told him she'd gone to change in the bathroom. Probably the safer bet. He couldn't depend on himself to make the best judgments when it came to seeing her potentially naked.

She emerged in a low, flowing white gown that fell softly on her delicate curves. So innocent, and so tempting. He let his eyes trace over her once, and without looking up, he ordered, "In bed. Now."

"No bedtime story?" she chided, and he laughed.

She settled into the pillows against the wall, and he took the place beside her, though over the covers. "I'm afraid nothing PG comes to mind."

"Lecher."

"Only when I'm in your bed."

She lifted an eyebrow. "That you invited yourself into."

"If I'd have known that's all I needed…" She glared, and he let the sincerity show in his face. "This isn't about me, though. I'd never abuse your trust." On purpose, at least.

"I know." She burrowed her face against his shoulder. "But I don't see how this is making me more likely to sleep."

He had to force away images of the easiest and most enticing way to exhaust her to sleep. "Lullaby?"

She chuckled. "You sing?"

"Oh, I meant you. I'd like something in minor mode."

She shoved his arm.

He ran a soft hand through her hair. In a low, throaty voice, he half-sung, half-whispered a lullaby in Vinkun. She nuzzled closer with a sigh as the soothing words fell, unintelligible to her.

Eyes closed, she mumbled, "You have to teach me that."

"What?"

"Vinkun. So beautiful."

His lips tickled the hair by her crown. "Not the only one."

She murmured a sleepy reply that he couldn't understand.

"You'll be amazing tomorrow." He brushed a thumb lightly over her shoulder. "You always are."

She pressed her face into his neck, cool lips buried against warm skin. He felt her slip into sleep. Should he stay, or go? Galinda was unlikely to appreciate his presence, but what if she woke in the middle of the night, full of worry and bad dreams?

He settled back against her pillows. She needed him, if only in his head, and he wouldn't put himself anywhere else. With a face buried in her hair, he let himself drift off with her. Never before had he felt so content.

* * *

><p>AN: Just a little fluff to celebrate Spring Break. The sequel is up now, Determined to Succeed, if you're interested. Thanks for reading.<p> 


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